Youngest Channeler
by viggen
Summary: Saidar changes those who channel it, especially the very young. Hidden among girls wearing white, the youngest channeler begins her trip through the white marble halls toward attainment of the shawl, but her enemies are legion. Book 4 Chapter 8 posted.
1. 1-1 A Spark Born In

Author's Note:

This story has gone through quite a lot, but it's still going. Thank you for reading! I do not own WOT.

This story takes place somewhere in the period of 922-950 NE, during the reign of Kirin Melway as Amyrlin Seat, 50 to 80 years before the events of the Dragon Reborn (see pg 216 of RJ's "The Complete World of the Wheel of Time").

Note (9/17/07): This story is dedicated to James Oliver Rigney Jr., also known as Robert Jordan, who passed away yesterday. His words will be sorely missed.

(3-29-13): I am a mite amused looking back at bygone days. Despite my negligence, people continue to have an interest in this story. Many thanks for your patronage! If you squint, you may notice a hint of change here or there as I've decided to polish my early work on this story while I reread it. Hopefully this will culminate in the addition of new work if I continue to have sufficient time and once I'm fully up to speed with what was originally produced.

* * *

**Book One**  
by viggen

The small girl with burnished copper skin and raven black hair sat on the carpet with her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped to hold them there. Her almond shaped black eyes spun in their sockets, swinging this way and that across the room in something just short of panic. She rocked in place, always moving, as if to comfort herself. Her face was damp with tears and her screaming fit had finally ended.

"You see, Aes Sedai, it is as if the Dark One himself had a grip on her. She has never been a normal child, but after her mother died, she simply snapped. I have taken her to every Wisdom and Wise Woman and village herbalist that will see me," insisted the girl's father, Dursh Prim. Prim was a prominent trader from Arad Doman, with a single jewel stud in one ear and black hair much like his daughter's. The deepening lines on his face be spoke months of worry that had aged him beyond what years and travel possibly could. His tall frame had bent as if under great weight. "She needs help beyond what I can possibly give her. Beyond what anyone short of the White Tower can provide. I will pay any price."

The Aes Sedai wearing the yellow shawl was a severe woman, close to plump, whom time had simply passed by. Steel gray in her hair, worn as a tight bun at the back of her head, suggested great age indeed where her face would not admit to being young or middle-aged or grandmotherly. Romanda Sedai regarded the child with a hooded expression. Unhurried, the Aes Sedai reached to retrieve a cup of tea from her desk and closed her eyes while she sipped. "How old is the girl?" she finally asked, the high pitch of her voice at odds with the severity she wore like a gown.

"This summer will be her sixth, Aes Sedai." Prim answered. "Ghedlyn is a good girl. If there's anything under the Light I can do at all..."

"You are correct," Romanda Sedai cut him off, "She does need help. Desperately. Left alone, she may die within the year. It is a surprise to find this problem in one quite so young."

"Can she be Healed?" Prim brightened, straightening in his chair.

"Healed... no. This problem is not one easily corrected," Romanda turned the cup in her hand. "Your daughter is touching the Source. Most girls with the spark born into them do not begin to touch _saidar_ until they are more than twice your daughter's age. She has embraced the source on and off since you walked through my door. It is as if she was a tall tree in a lightning storm and simply unable to stop it."

Prim had turned white, "She can channel."

"For one so young, it is much much more than an aberration." Romanda continued, "It may even burn her out or kill her before she is taught enough to control it. I must ask that you leave her here in our care. Even so, she may not live to summer."

"My daughter," Dursh gurgled flatly. He looked too exhausted to express the emotion surging through him.

"We will do everything we can for her, Tradesman Prim," Romanda assured him, "You may be allowed to stay as a guest and I will arrange that you be kept with your daughter. She is still far too young to be separated from her parents."

Thus did Ghedlyn Prim arrive at the White Tower, seven years younger than the youngest novice.


	2. 1-2 Almost a Mercy

"It would almost be a mercy to Still her," Allerria said.

"That is not something we can tell the father," Romanda exclaimed to other yellow sister, "she will survive no better than a full sister if permanently cut from the source."

"She will not face that fate sooner than any full sister," Kirin Melway adjusted the seven color stole across her shoulders. She had been quiet and contemplative in the way of a Brown until that moment, as if lost in her own thoughts and unaware of the two yellow sisters talking to her. "I will have to check the histories to see if any other child so young has ever been brought to the Tower already so far along touching the one power."

"In the case of this child, it is an illness," Allerria sighed, "to be touching _saidar_ in these earliest years of her life has permanently damaged the woman she will become. The girl sits as mute as a stump until she is touched, and then she screams as if she were in the cook pot of a Trolloc and writhes as if boiling oil were poured down her back. She becomes quiet only when left alone again. She sits like a post and allows _saidar_ to rage through her when it will."

"It may be," Romanda added, "that she is already able to channel to a degree. Even if she is not material for a full sister, she cannot be allowed to leave the care of Aes Sedai until she is in full control of her strength. And, it chills me to think what she might be able to do with the power already. What if she has another of those tantrums... while embracing _saidar_?"

Allerria supplied uneasily, "She will be very strong -maybe on the order of Cadsuane Malaidhrin. She is six years old and has survived touching the source long enough to be able to embrace it without guidance. Her personality is not formed enough in its understanding of the world for her to be able block herself the way many wilders do. _Saidar_ is breath and blood to her."

"It seems there is no choice but for us to train her," Kirin said. "Here is what we shall do. You two will take her into the care of the Yellow Ajah. Place her directly with someone trustworthy who has experience with problems of the mind and who will easily fill the role of her mother. This sister will have a long term duty to nurse her toward health."

"Mother, might I suggest the child be sent to a farm until she is a little older?" Romanda asked. "She is too delicate to be subjected to the attention when news of her existence spreads. Sisters from all the Ajahs will be fighting over her when they learn that someone her age might be able to channel. The way she was brought in, news has probably spread already. And if there's some channeling accident, an explosion or a fire, better on a farm than here in the middle of Tar Valon."

"I agree, daughter," Kirin nodded, "We should keep news of this child quiet and move her out of Tar Valon. She must receive enough training that her life will no longer be in jeopardy prior to subjecting her to the usual stresses here in the tower."

"Training and seclusion will never be enough. She is permanently ruined," Allerria insisted, "the impact touching _saidar_ has on girls twice her age, three times her age, is irreversible. Not one of us can imagine surviving without the power, but she... for her there will never have been a time before it. Where other girls her age spend their days playing with dolls and tied to their mothers' apron strings, she has had her soul blasted clean by _saidar_. It is a horrible curse. That she has not drawn too deeply already is a miracle by the hand of the creator... If not Stilling her, she should at least be shielded for her own protection. A child her age has not the maturity to survive what she faces."

The Amyrlin, known for her cautious, ever-thoughtful equanimity, regarded both of the Yellow sisters for a long moment. She could be steel when necessary, or pliant as water, though not without regard for where she jumped. Perhaps that was one reason a Brown had been raised to the Seat. Her soft-spoken manner sometimes made her appear weak before the Hall, but somehow she always managed to get her way. "She has not managed to burn herself out yet. There is a gleeman's story I hear tell; some time ago, in Baerlon, a tavern keeper had a son who would sit in the bar room night after night watching performers play. A child of six or eight. He would sit and watch without ever speaking, not playing with toy swords or rough-housing as other boys his age might. The entire tavern staff thought the boy stupid and forever joked behind the tavern keeper's back. 'His wits are paste,' they would laugh, 'lose a game of stones to a mule,' and so on. One night, when a dulcimer player and singer were between songs on a break, the boy climbed on stage, picked up a dulcimer hammer and began to play. The first song he played was one that would take years to learn, and sheet music besides, but he played it for memory. The story goes that he played the entire night through, no song twice, and so beautifully that the roughest miner wept into his wine. It is said that he could play any instrument he touched as a master might the first time he touched it. That boy was Thefgang Mazerat. Everyone knows the legendary musician spent his whole life playing to courts and causing Kings and Queens -even Amyrlin Seats- to weep with emotion."

Romanda's mouth thinned. She was not certain she agreed with the implication, "What are you suggesting."

"Allerria invoked Cadsuane's name as a comparison for this almost six year old girl. Cadsuane! The strongest Aes Sedai in centuries," Kirin chuckled. "Rather than pondering how best to shield her and hide her away as an abomination, we should be working to put her in contact with her gift. Most girls don't begin to touch _saidar_ until they are on their way to becoming adult women; there must be a reason why this one has begun that journey so many years shy even of her first flowering. I cannot believe the creator would permit such a rape of soul without there being a very good reason."


	3. 1-3 Proper Harmonies

Move the stone forward so much. Move the stone backward so far. Move the stone forward. Ghedlyn furrowed her eyebrows inquisitively. When she moved it, the stone squeaked across the surface of the board. She moved the piece back and forth on the smooth surface, her small face intent and completely unsmiling. She touched the stone with a tiny hand such that her fingers were arranged exactly so, at the same points every time. Other stones cluttered the board, left from an unfinished game -she ignored them. Only the one stone interested her. She could not decide if it were meant to be in one place, or the other. Her black eyes bored into that single piece without blinking.

The exchanges from the stone to the board to the stone to the board and back to the stone ranged without cease. They spiraled and spun, the limitless exchanges, almost like woven strings or threads. Every part of the board touched every part of the stone, which in turn touched every part of every other stone, every part of the table, every part of the floor, every part of the ceiling, every tapestry on the walls, every flame in the lamps around the room. If the stone sat in this place, there was harmony. If the stone sat in the other place, there was also harmony. The places were equal and she could not quite figure out which was better. So she moved the stone from one correct position to the other, and then back again.

"Tradesman Prim," someone said at the room's entry, "If I may."

"Allerria Sedai," Ghedlyn's father replied. He stood up from the chair by the bookcase, where he had been watching his daughter, and went to the door. His movement rearranged which shadows fell from which burning lamps, reordered the very air itself. The ladderback chair seemed so different without him sitting in it. Harmonies involving the bookshelf, particularly six books on the top row, completely shifted. The stone she moved on the board before her suddenly became more harmonious at the nearby spot. Ghedlyn breathed out a little puff of surprise and left the stone where it now belonged.

Two stately women came into the room. Her father bowed deeply to them.

Ghedlyn gave a squawk in pure frustration. These two women had changed every proper pattern in the room by their simple presence. Her cry drew three sets of eyes. One of the women recovered herself immediately and turned to Ghedlyn's father while the other continued to watch.

"My apologies for her, Aes Sedai," Papa said, "She really does not know much about respect."

Allerria Sedai shook her head, "Do not be concerned. We understand your daughter means us no disrespect. Tradesman, I would like to introduce you to Rayanne Charrad."

"Aes Sedai," Papa said with awed deference, and made careful, respectful leg.

The second woman, who had been studying Ghedlyn, dipped her head fractionally, "Tradesman."

"Rayanne will be taking over care of your daughter. She specializes in illnesses of the mind," Allerria continued. "Romanda and I spoke with the Amyrlin Seat on your behalf and we have decided that it would be best for your daughter if we move you both out of the Tower during the initial stages of Ghedlyn's treatment. We believe that Rayanne has the best qualifications to help your daughter."

"How will I pay you?" Papa asked them. He did not rise from his courtesy. "What you are doing for us. How do I compensate you for these efforts?"

The two Aes Sedai shared a wordless glance. Allerria finally said, "The issue of payment for services rendered would be best left for when we know what services are needed."

The second Aes Sedai continued to watch Ghedlyn. She had sharp blue eyes and a nobly upturned nose. Her fair skinned face narrowly defied hinting an age, though she seemed on the side of youthful, perhaps not long to the shawl. Her golden hair fell most of the way down her back in a thick braid of western Andoran style. She wore a yellow dress brocaded with silver animals and trimmed in elaborate scrollwork. Her only piece of jewelry was the fine, gold chain necklace around her neck and her ears were unadorned.

"This is her, then?" with her hands clasped behind her back, the lionine woman strolled casually across the room. Her slippers whisked the carpet.

Sitting on her knees beside the low table that held the stones board, Ghedlyn pointedly did not look directly at the golden-haired Aes Sedai. The little girl's head faced the Aes Sedai, but her wide eyes turned in their sockets such that they pointed off past the woman's right shoulder.

"I see Romanda was not joking," Rayanne looked down at the child.

Ghedlyn trembled. She clasped the edge of the table with one hand. With her head cocked so she could still see Rayanne Sedai from the corner of her eye, she touched stones on the board and began compulsively to move them again.

Appraising Ghedlyn over a high nose, Rayanne circled the six year old girl and table. "She will be a challenge."

Ghedlyn shifted the cock of her head as the Aes Sedai moved so that she could always see Rayanne from the corner of her eye. She steadily rearranged the stones, first as a diamond, then back as a triangle, then as a diamond. Rayanne stooped down close, until they were almost face to face. Ghedlyn's trembling broadcasted through her arm so that the stone she held tapped gently on the board.

Her eyes locked on the little girl, Rayanne carefully reached out and touched one of the pieces arranged for the moment as a diamond. Ghedlyn stiffened and inhaled sharply. She stopped moving pieces. With one finger, Rayanne pushed the piece diagonally away from its position, breaking the geometric figure Ghedlyn had crafted.

For her own part, Ghedlyn immediately screamed and dove head-first under the table, managing to kick the table leg in her haste. Stones scattered. She continued to scream, even with her arms wrapped around her head and her face pressed against the Tairin carpet. Her limbs and body felt like fire.

"All my apologies, Aes Sedai!" Papa cried, over Ghedlyn's unabashed wailing, "She really does not know. If she offended you..."

"By the Light, she drew deeply then," Rayanne said, calmly "who can imagine how strong she will be as she matures. Tradesman, your daughter is in terrible need of help. Left unchecked, this power will kill her."

"Aes Sedai, what will you do?"

A hand touched Ghedlyn's shoulder; an unwanted, uninvited, warm hand. She screamed all the more until the touch went away.

"Tradesman, may I call you Dursh?" the woman Rayanne's voice was so close, as if she had crouched to put her head under the table.

"If you wish Aes Sedai," Papa's voice cracked as if he were mortified beyond means of expression.

"Please, 'Rayanne Sedai' is more than enough respect. Has Ghedlyn always avoided contact in this manner?"

"Except with her mother," Papa replied, "she usually refuses to abide even me. Bathing her is a nightmare."

"Understand that what I do now is for her own good," Ghedlyn felt Rayanne Sedai flare like the sun. She felt the connective lacework of the room shudder, taut around the blazing Aes Sedai. Ghedlyn squealed in fright. A thready new pattern, the like of which she had never sensed, spun into existence. The quilted weave slammed around Ghedlyn and blanked out the heat and light that permeated everything. Sound and feel of reality dulled to her. Connections of the fabric became faint, far away. She could not clearly sense the harmonies! Intrusive hands seized Ghedlyn around the stomach and dragged her bodily out from under the table. She clawed with her tiny fingers into the carpet and kicked with small feet, screaming all the way, squalling murder at the top of her lungs.

"Relax, child, relax!" the woman's voice said.

"Ghedlyn!" her father bleated.

Ghedlyn squirmed and fought for all she was worth. She bit into cloth and skin, clawing like an animal, flailing desperately. The touch would not go away. She was too small. Inevitable force dragged her, even full of fight, out from under the table. Overpowering arms from an adult wrapped crushingly around her as she found herself in a yellow skirted lap, pressed bodily against female bosom. Ghedlyn could hardly kick, could hardly twist her arms to claw. With her ear pressed forcefully against Rayanne's breast, she could not turn to bite. She settled for screaming, stopping only long enough to draw breath before continuing the shrill keen. Tears spilled from her eyes and her nose ran, but she did not stop wailing. The harmonies were all wrong, all transformed to shadows crowning and scudding across the visceral shape of reality, all broken in a lightning storm of instability. The form was dull and she could not reach it!

Allerria Sedai held her father by the shoulder. Papa looked on the verge of tears himself. Rayanne Sedai's blue eyes were closed and she had turned her chin to rest her cheek atop Ghedlyn's head. "Until you realize that this is meant to be, it will not end," Rayanne whispered for Ghedlyn's ear alone, despite the screaming. "I know there used to be someone in your life who did this. And I know you miss it. It can't feel bad to remember it."

"What are you doing?" Papa demanded, "Now she'll never come near you! Help her? Now she will hide under any piece of furniture she can find whenever she knows you are near!"

"She will be touched and hugged whenever she feels me near!"

Ghedlyn continued to scream, but her voice was beginning to fail her. The woman held her close no matter how she tried to squirm. She felt too weak.

"Dursh," Rayanne said, her words filling her chest and Ghedlyn's ears, "This child's life is built on patterns. In order to help her, I need to be a central part of those patterns. I could take the slow path, endearing myself to her gradually, gently moving her habits until I am painlessly a part of her life, but her power will kill her if I am not a force on her world immediately."

Ghedlyn's wailing had died down into heaving cries. She did not know how long the woman had held her. She had grown far too weak to fight, though she continued to tremble.

"Just be calm," Rayanne whispered. Her breath was hot on Ghedlyn's exposed ear.

She could hear a heartbeat in her other ear. The steady thumping, constant and rhythmic and warm, gently lulled her. The pattern of it surrounded her. From the Aes Sedai's chest, the heart pounding felt so regular. She could predict exactly when the next beat would fall. Finally, a pattern that made sense! Ghedlyn snorted a breath through her runny nose. A rose and rainwater scent she had never before smelled tickled her.

"Calm," Rayanne repeated.

The consistent thunder of that heart gradually slowed. Ghedlyn realized she could hear the roar of the woman drawing breath. The inhale began... one heart beat... two... three... four. An exhale sighed... one... two... three... four. It was music; the rhythm was music. It was almost a harmony.

"Four," Ghedlyn croaked. "Four... four..."

"So we are not an animal, after all," Rayanne chuckled. "Dursh, how quickly can you be ready to travel?"

"I came to Tar Valon only with Ghedlyn. My assistants have been managing my trade for months."

"We should leave for the farm as soon as possible," Rayanne Sedai said, "Before light tomorrow if it can be managed."


	4. 1-4 Someone Who Cares

Allerria touched Rayanne's shoulder as the two Aes Sedai glided along the corridor, "Those teeth marks look very painful. Allow me to Heal you."

"It is not necessary," Rayanne brushed her off, "the child was simply frightened of something new."

"Tying off the shield on the child may cause trouble if the Amyrlin discovers what you have done," Allerria reminded testily. Her icy tone implied many deeper misgivings on the matter, "We are to be 'putting the girl in touch with her power' if I recall the proper wording."

Rayanne nodded, "Of that I am aware. I have two reasons for blocking her. First, we really cannot risk the poor girl channeling here in the Tower with so many Novices and Accepted about. We do not need any of them thinking about strength with the power. Second, the shield might prove a valuable tool for reaching the child."

"Are you up to this challenge, Rayanne?" Allerria asked. "This is not a teenage farmgirl who has contemplated throwing herself onto a pitchfork one time too often. Even a fool would wonder if this child is not already lost and as dangerous as a chained leopard."

"You continue to think she should be Stilled?" Rayanne gasped in outrage.

Allerria grunted, "What cannot be fixed may cause endless harm to everyone around her. Is the child ill, or is she a plague set to soon emerge? Are you prepared to face such a possibility?"

"I am Rayanne Charrad, Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah; Healing is my Life." Rayanne told her in no uncertain terms. "Illness of the mind may not be solved so easily by channeling as illness of the body, but there must be someone who tries to repair it. She is just a child and she deserves someone to care."

"It may be years before this girl is ready to find her name written in the novice book," Allerria warned, "maybe never. But the Tower cannot let her free before she has adequate training to render her safe, both to herself and to others. Before all is finished, you may even face the choice of her life or yours. By giving you this task, we are asking a labor more than any set to you previously."

"I am Aes Sedai just like you," Rayanne answered coolly, prominently adjusting her serpent ring, "I refuse to fail."

"If the wheel wills, you may not have a choice."


	5. 1-5 Out of Tar Valon

Getting Ghedlyn out of the Tower before sunrise proved much easier than taking her in the day before had been. For one thing, the child still slept like a hibernating bear from the excitement, enabling Dursh to carry her without a shrieking squabble. Held in a blanket against his chest, she shivered at a cold morning breeze and actually mumbled something, but did not stir. Dursh sighed.

If the Aes Sedai could bring the semblance of a human child back to his daughter, Dursh would happily hike to Shayol Ghul.

The sun had barely begun to cast light on the eastern horizon, over the wall of the Tower's main courtyard, by the time Dursh and a few of the legion of stable hands had Pidge harnessed to the little wagon he and Ghedlyn had ridden from the west. The choice to bring slow, sway-backed old Pidge on the journey to Tar Valon had been a very careful one; Dursh decided before setting out that, of all the horses at his disposal, on this journey he really was better off appearing impoverished. Though the horse was reliable and had preternatural endurance, ambling Pidge always seemed as if he was about to collapse dead off his hooves at any moment. Ghedlyn did not respond well to the notion of horseback, so the wagon had been a necessity. Dursh had brought his daughter all the leagues from the shore of the Aryth Ocean at a plodding rate, displaying no wares worth stealing and carrying no more gold than was necessary to put them up comfortably when the need finally arose. At times, the long trip had seemed to do Ghedlyn well and Dursh hoped this new trip would be as uneventful.

He settled Ghedlyn blanket and all in the straw-lined bed of the wagon. Better to have his hands off of her before she wakened and realized she was not in the same place where she had gone to sleep the night before. Moving her from one location to another without her knowledge upset her horribly enough. At least the long months of wagon travel had acclimated the child to waking up in the straw bed, which might serve to ease this latest transition. He laid a fur over top of Ghedlyn for added warmth and spent a moment stroking her silky black hair.

Rayanne Sedai appeared in a golden-tan riding cloak, her long braid slung over her shoulder. At her side walked a tall, thin man with thuggishly sunken brown eyes, a craggy face and short cropped hair the color of Ghedlyn's. Dursh knew immediately that the man was a warder from his level, fluid stride. The color shifting cloak he swept adroitly onto his shoulders confirmed the label, as did the hand that seemed to fondle the straight sword on his belt. "Nordel," Rayanne introduced him when she came to check on Ghedlyn.

The warder helped his Aes Sedai onto her gray-flecked mount before finding his own warhorse, a snow white brute so muscular and spirited that Dursh feared being in the same courtyard with it. The warder led the way through the gates out of the courtyard and off through Tar Valon just as the first rays of reddish sun struck the clouds trapped on the sheer heights of the Dragonmount. They crossed one of the mile long bridges over the Erinin westward off the island of Tar Valon proper before the sunlight began to even cast long shadows and before the teeming city started to rouse. The day promised to be bright and clear, with few clouds in the sky aside from the halo forever enshrouding the pinnacle of the Dragonmount.

Leaving behind the bridge town Alindaer and heading southwest away from Tar Valon, they were surrounded by rolling grass hills and melting snow, with sparse copses of trees not yet ready to put forth leaves after the retreating winter.

Dursh sighed to himself. He would be missing the early furniture trade after woodcrafters began to show their winter labors to acquire vineyard commodities from the south. Early spring was a good time to trade since everybody, everywhere worked to replenish winter stores of some essential or another. It pained him that his daughter might never learn the fine art of haggling like a proper Domani woman and the lubricating effect well displayed skin could have on driving a hard bargain. Full grown, she would be sultry vision, a virtual reflection of her mother, but this new thing, this channeling, hinted at a life Dursh could hardly wrap his mind around. He had crossed a thousand leagues over land in the hope the Aes Sedai could cure his little girl, only to find that he might yet lose her even if she managed to survive. He still felt a sting that his lovely, black-eyed daughter could possibly be afflicted in some way by the One Power. He did not need to be an Aes Sedai or a warder himself to know that channeling was forever.

Once the White Tower got its hooks into a woman who could channel, that woman would not be free until the Tower decided to let her go. He toyed at the thought of his beautiful little girl as an Aes Sedai herself, and failed.

The rumble of cartwheels, jangle of riding tack and the thump of dropping hooves had begun to lull him when Rayanne Sedai spoke, "Does she usually sleep this late?"

The sun had reached mid-morning height and the Dragonmount was an imposing mass to the north. Dursh shook himself, "Yesterday was a difficult day for her, Aes Sedai. She usually sleeps like the workings of a clock, but Tar Valon and the White Tower were something new. Riding in the cart again today will probably bring things more toward the usual."

"She would normally be awake, then?" Rayanne asked.

Dursh glanced over his shoulder at the fur draped across his daughter, "She may be awake now, Aes Sedai. After how you treated her, I expect her to hide from you."

Rayanne Sedai chuckled mellifluously, "Soon enough, she will realize that I will not be going anywhere. The sooner she knows it, the better. Tell me, what are her interests? What catches her attention?"

"H- how do you mean?" Dursh asked. He did not know exactly how to answer that question.

"What does she willingly spend her time on, when left alone? Is it usually like what I saw yesterday?" Rayanne hupped her reins to keep her gray-flecked mare tracking straight; the horse had started to meander toward a particular bush along the path as they passed.

"That is typical, I suppose," Dursh considered. "She will pick up and touch any game or blacksmith puzzle she finds without ever actually playing it or solving it. I have seen her sort for hours through straw as if looking for something that she never quite seems to find. She will watch a swarming anthill with baited breath the same way most people will watch a juggling Gleeman. I have seen her touch leaves on a plant, one touch for every leaf she can reach and not more than that -she will actually let me pick her up without any fuss if I help her touch the leaves she cannot reach standing on her own two feet. She will stare at the clouds for hours without making a noise, or at ground beneath cart wheels."

"Does something ever make her smile?" Rayanne asked, adjusting herself in the saddle.

"Not often since her mother passed," Dursh told her and did not elaborate.

Rayanne's blue eyes lingered appraisingly on him for a moment, "How well does she speak?"

"Like any other child when she was very young. She spoke early even!" Dursh felt the flood of pride at that, "but she has grown more and more quiet since. Now she barely ever dares to string two or three words together. Sometimes days will go by without hearing her utter a thing, even if I speak to her all the time. Those few things she has refined to perfection she says clearly and well, but if the words must be put together in a new order... I don't know."

"So she really does understand if you speak to her?" Rayanne allowed her horse to drift back along the cart so she could inspect the mound of fur hiding the child. All that was visible of Ghedlyn was a curl of barely hidden black hair.

"Sometimes it does not seem so," Dursh admitted.

"Can you predict when she is selective about what she hears?"

"It... is as if she hears everything, but acknowledges nothing," Dursh told her. "Do you understand her problem, Aes Sedai? You seem to have some idea how to solve it."

"I have suspicions for the moment," Rayanne straightened her back in the saddle. "As I learn more, we shall see what is proven. We will likely be together for a considerable time. If it will ease your mind, you should consider calling me 'Rayanne Sedai' rather than 'Aes Sedai.'"

"If that is your wish," Dursh cringed inwardly. Even though this was the second time she had invited him to be more familiar, the thought of using this woman's name bothered him.

"The farm is two weeks travel to the south and west of here, very secluded," Rayanne said, "but I must begin training Ghedlyn sooner. Even two weeks may be too long."


	6. 1-6 Hit to the Head

Rayanne intended to spend the first day of travel trying to gauge Ghedlyn's reaction to the strangers accompanying herself and her father. The child pretended to sleep the entire morning, defying her own hunger and bodily functions. There was no question in Rayanne's mind that the girl remembered their hug from the night before; Rayanne had every intention of repeating the contact at first opportunity and the girl knew she did. From Rayanne's reading of Dursh, she knew the trader affluent, which told her something else about Ghedlyn she had not expected to learn so quickly. The child possessed enough awareness to choose to ignore her own needs. Other six year olds from well-to-do families often unconsciously demanded their parents cater to their every need.

First thing in the morning, Rayanne had untied the shield she held on Ghedlyn, but did not let the weave fall. She knew exactly when Ghedlyn awakened. The child immediately began to probe the confines of the weave preventing her from reaching the source, even without knowing what she was doing. Rayanne felt surprise at the level of sensitivity the girl had already attained. The beginnings of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth, Rayanne leaned out of her saddle and gave a single caress to the top of the black-haired head, the only part of the child protruding from beneath the fur. The girl gave no sign of wakefulness, lying like a stone, but Rayanne felt the probing at the shield cease.

Once she learned something about channeling, she would be difficult to cut off again. Once she fully matured, she promised to be powerful in a manner unusual among Aes Sedai -powerful not necessarily because of strength. Rayanne felt no doubt at all that Ghedlyn would one day attain the shawl, and swore on the spot to do everything in her means to promote the eventuality. She put doubts and unpleasant notions in the past.

During the ride, she periodically felt the girl's eyes peeking out from under the fur blanket whenever she thought no one was looking. Ghedlyn's curiosity was palpable, if carefully concealed.

But what exactly was the catch necessary to put a hole in the wall the girl had surrounded herself with?

While gray-flecked Prancer bounced beneath her, Rayanne brought out the scrip she usually used to carry personal affects. Before leaving the White Tower, she spoke at length to the Amyrlin about her initial encounter with Ghedlyn. The Amyrlin suggested she bring several books.

The first to drop into her lap was a text about music by the magnificent composer Mazerat, printed two hundred years after the fall of Artur Hawkwing's empire. Nordel had brought his harp and flute just in case music managed to catch Ghedlyn's interest. Next was a book called "Principia Mathematica" by an author called Hitsac Newten, translated and reprinted since time immemorial. Rayanne wondered if Newten had been prominent as long ago as the Age of Legends. She did not know much about the arithmetic contained in the text -that would be a White Ajah predilection- but she was determined to learn enough to guide the child. Another book contained assorted word puzzles. She knew these from her childhood and had grown with them in her own schooling prior to the White Tower. Dursh had already confirmed that Ghedlyn did indeed have interest in puzzles, though why she picked them up without solving them was unknown. The next book out of the scrip was a compilation of fables and fairytales -the Amyrlin had pointed out that nearly every child liked these kinds of stories, despite Rayanne's protest that Ghedlyn had seemed unengaging. The final book, and the thickest by far, was a Brown Ajah favorite called "Origins of Life" which included many detailed pictures of animals and plants. Rayanne thought the last book might be the best place to start given the child's preoccupation with nature.

In any case, a need for the books might not arise if Rayanne could not manage to lodge a foot in the door.

A thought occurred to her. "Has Ghedlyn been taught to read?" she asked the trader.

Dursh twitched in the driver's seat of the cart then swung his coppery face toward the Aes Sedai. "I..." he fumbled uncomfortably for a moment, "I have read to her, but she became as she is before I could teach her."

Rayanne filed the revelation away for future reference. This morning, at least, it had to be Ghedlyn to make the first move. After their contact the evening before, the simple choice by the child not to hide would be a break in the wall. She slipped the books back into the scrip, hoping for an opportunity to use them sometime soon.

The day never warmed much above freezing, but enough for the road to soften and demand greater care with the small wagon. Rayanne managed a few short conversations with Dursh, particularly concerning local trading practices and what commodities might move best at this point in the year. Dursh never completely overcame his visible discomfort chatting with an Aes Sedai, but he had finally begun to warm. Rayanne suspected he had come to the Tower anticipating a moment of divine intervention followed by a long trip back to his life. The idea of spending further time in close quarters with Rayanne and her warder clearly rattled him, though he obviously intended to keep at it for Ghedlyn's sake.

Rayanne felt thankful for Nordel's perpetual optimism. Leading the party, the warder cheerfully picked their way through the borderline slog at a comfortable pace that allowed his Aes Sedai ample opportunity to design an approach at Ghedlyn. Astride the fearsome warhorse Ragabash, he seemed frequently on the verge of leaping out with snatches of song or whistling. Whenever they passed a train of wagons headed in the direction of Tar Valon, the warder would happily greet each driver. Despite his brutish appearance, Nordel served perfectly as warder to a yellow sister whose occupation was combating maladies of the soul. The warmth of his presence in the back of her mind helped solidify her resolve.

"Aha!" Dursh suddenly chirped, "So the sleepy head finally chooses this moment to awaken." He remained looking forward in his seat on the cart, but he drew the sway-backed old wreck to a snuffling halt.

Ghedlyn lay stretched the length of her body in the straw, one hand dragging the fur half to keep herself covered, the other questing for the lid of a wicker pannier laid in the back of the wagon. She seemed to stiffen, as if contemplating that her cover was blown, but did not retreat back beneath fur. The fingers of her questing hand fumbled at the tie on the pannier lid.

The tradesman dropped out of the driver's seat of the wagon and circled quickly to lay his hands on the lid of the pannier. In a peculiar demonstration, he avoided looking straight at his daughter as he unfastened the lid of the case to let her open it. The black-haired child rummaged and delved, obviously looking for something, but Dursh came up with the water flask first. Instead of giving the flask directly to Ghedlyn, he placed it out of the way and ignored it. Ghedlyn immediately picked it up, slipped and struggled with little fingers until she succeeded to pop the cork and drank her fill. Dursh stood by and made a great display of not watching, even though he obviously paid close attention from the corner of his eye.

Nordel had brought Ragabash back along the sloppy road and regarded the proceedings with an amused look on his oft-broken face. "I suppose this, then, would be a fine spot to take lunch," the man could sing like a court bard with his lovely tenor voice. Rayanne nodded to him, not that he needed the affirmation since he could feel her mood, and he began to search his saddle packs for food.

Ghedlyn succeeded in re-stopping the water flask, which she then put away in the pannier. After she closed the pannier and tied it shut as well as her tiny fingers could manage, she began to make her rustling way across the bed of straw, intent on getting out of the wagon opposite the side where everyone else stood. Dursh hurriedly opened the pannier, rearranged the contents, checked that the water flask stopper would not fall out then tied the pannier closed again. He circled the cart to where his daughter, who still dragged the fur after her, was angling rump first to make a descent toward the ground.

Rayanne met him there, her riding gloves tucked into her belt. She would not miss this opportunity, "If you will permit me."

Dursh squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and nodded, "She just needs you to help her down. She will be angry with you the rest of the day if you refuse to let her carry that fur."

"I see," Rayanne caught the girl beneath the arms and lifted her down. Her tiny body was feather light and she gave an embittered squeal when touched, but she did not struggle. Rayanne added her own embellishment to the contact; while they touched, she released the shield weave. Ghedlyn stopped squealing instantly. When the child's feet touched the ground and Rayanne let go of her, Rayanne immediately dropped another shield into place between Ghedlyn and the source.

The fur clutched comfortingly to her side against her shapeless gray dress and her black hair streaming over her face, Ghedlyn stood as if hit by a hammer squarely on the head. She seemed to sway.

"That's new," Dursh said wryly.

Rayanne blinked serenely in his direction and made no comment.

Ghedlyn turned in place, her leather soled boots squishing in the muck. She cocked her head sideways and, lifting the tresses of black hair from her face with a skinny little hand, looked directly at Rayanne from the corner of one slate black eye. Though her slow glance drank in Rayanne from feet to head, she still did not quite meet the Aes Sedai's gaze. Rayanne could feel the child probing the shield between herself and the source all the while.

Still watching Rayanne from that strange cock-headed, indirect but direct, corner-eyed position, Ghedlyn began a curving, shambling walk in the direction of the road side. She was not about to let Rayanne out of sight. Rayanne could not tell whether this attention happened more into the realm of curiosity or distrust. One corner of the fur dragged the ground behind the girl, but she did not seem to notice.

"That is the closest you will ever get to having her attention. You might as well go with her, Aes Sedai, er, Rayanne Sedai," Dursh said, "She is looking to void herself and I would prefer she not be alone at it. I will help your, um, warder move everything to the side of the road so that we might take lunch."


	7. 1-7 Picture a Flower

Ghedlyn spent the remainder of the first day trying to figure out this Rayanne Sedai person. Sitting in the back of the wagon with the fur draped over her head, she tried to listen to the harmonies that usually permeated the whole of reality. The day had been silent with the sole exception of the one time when Rayanne Sedai touched her, which resulted in a scant few moments when the harmonies of the mud and sky sprang pure and true. Then Rayanne Sedai flared like a star fallen to ground and that unusual fabric of harmony had ensnared Ghedlyn once again. It was not exactly a complete deadness of the feel, as she first thought, but a sort of dullness where the feel remained one scarce measure beyond contact. Sitting with the fur over her head, she could feel and hear hints of the harmonies.

If only she could reach them.

Counted things remained the same. Lying as still in the wagon bed as she could, she spent the morning making certain of that. One piece of straw was the same piece of straw, no matter how many times she checked it. If only she could hear the place of that piece of straw. Without the harmonies, she could not tell where one piece of straw belonged from another, even if they did seem continuously different from each other. She could not tell how two separate pieces were related with respect to one another, though she was certain they must be, or else they would need to be identical in lacking any differences.

Rayanne Sedai sometimes spent long periods talking to Papa and sometimes talking to the tall, cruel looking man with the calming voice. Sometimes, the Aes Sedai sat quietly, watching Ghedlyn. The woman would touch Ghedlyn whenever she was near, which drove Ghedlyn to no end of annoyance. Nobody was supposed to touch her the way Mama did. The harmony was not right. Ghedlyn knew, things were supposed to be a certain way -they had to be lest they not exist!

They passed a small village late in the afternoon and stopped long enough to buy more food. It was right to buy food whenever there was a village. Ghedlyn felt the need to remind Papa, just to make certain he knew since he seemed to be forgetting so many other proper harmonies lately. "Village is for food, Papa, for village is," Ghedlyn told him earnestly, "Stop for food in the village or there is no food for eating. Papa for food stop."

Papa agreed to stop. Rayanne Sedai gave Ghedlyn one of those flat, penetrating looks. Did the woman know nothing? Ghedlyn wondered if Rayanne Sedai knew how to feed herself. Certainly the woman was not so ignorant of creation to disregard those harmonies.

Rayanne Sedai made a low comment to Papa who laughed and replied, "Aes Sedai, she will not say more than that most weeks!"

Once they found a proper stall where the proper foods were lined up in the proper order, orange necturns first on the left, followed by brown sacks of grain, Papa did remember exactly what to purchase. It had to include at least an unbroken loaf of bread and a small wheel of orange cheese, both with a good circular shape. Some wheels of cheese were different from others, but Ghedlyn still did not know how exactly to tell beyond the color and the harmony -the harmony of which was simply missing today. While he often bought other things too, these things were the minimal of what was needed. Rayanne Sedai watched Papa carefully, and watched Ghedlyn.

They were back on the road again shortly after, Ghedlyn munching cheese. Papa had always given her a piece of cheese immediately after buying it. This cheese was not correct, but her stomach still growled at her furiously since avoiding the proper patterns of breakfast that morning, so she ate it anyway. If you broke a pattern, any pattern, you always needed to be ready to pay for it later. Harmonies demanded their own conservation.

Papa knew when it was time to stop for the night. He pulled the cart to the side of the road and began to set up camp. Rayanne Sedai and the cruel looking man followed them and began to set up camp as well -rather, the cruel looking man set up camp and Rayanne Sedai watched Ghedlyn. Ghedlyn did not like the confirmedly strange order of the two camps together, but she already knew that she could not change it. Instead, she walked in a circle around the two camps and tried to understand if there was a difference between them and whether they were actually one camp of an improper shape and number of occupants. Without the ability to clearly discern the harmonies, she could not quite feel what she needed to. The order was inexplicit.

One type of small, winter-deadened bush surrounding the campsite was not correct. Ghedlyn had never seen these before. Campsites had been surrounded by a lot of other types of bushes, she knew, but these were not the same. With her favorite fur wrapped around her shoulders, she stooped to sit down beside the one bush that had something approaching true symmetry and attempted to see the shape of this new pattern. Perhaps, this bush might have something to do with the native un-rightness about having two camps fused together with four people.

If only she could hear the harmonies. If only she could hear them! If only...

This kind of bush had a thickened stem that rapidly burst into a straggling veneer of knotted branches. Each branch stretched a short distance before subdividing itself. Each subdivision divided again at a similar distance along its length as its parent. The offshoot angles were consistent. The halo of slender stalks terminated in leafless nubs at similar distances from the main stem at ground level. Ghedlyn could see three and five point symmetry at many subdivision nodes where branchings converged and began to count them to be certain.

A hand touched her shoulder through the fur. Ghedlyn twitched and squealed.

Smoothing her brown and yellow riding dress and holding it to keep from getting too much muck on it, Rayanne Sedai crouched down on her knees. The blue eyed gaze fixed solidly on Ghedlyn and refused to move even though Ghedlyn tried to squirm around it.

Ghedlyn looked right and left, right and left, turning her head and shivering. She wanted so much to figure out the pattern of the bush, but she cringed at the touch of the Aes Sedai. She wanted to get out from under that gaze, but she hoped something about the bush might restore her normal sense of harmonies. She did not know what to do when faced directly with this confrontation. Shrieking and screaming and kicking had not worked when the woman hugged her the night before. She did not faintly understand what to do. She just did not understand.

Flicking her long, golden braid over one shoulder, Rayanne Sedai set a book down on the ground before Ghedlyn. "Why not look here?"

Ghedlyn was shivering so hard she did not know what to do. The harmonies of the camp. The missing sound of reality. The half-discerned bush. Tears streamed out of her spinning eyes and down her cheeks.

Screaming had not worked before. What to do? Screaming had not worked. Why did Rayanne Sedai keep touching her?

The Aes Sedai cracked the book open to a particular page, "Look here, at this."

Ghedlyn bit her lip, bit her tongue. Screaming had not worked. What to do, what to do, what to do?

Rayanne Sedai stroked Ghedlyn's hair with her free hand, gently guiding her to look downward, "Is this not the same one? 'Fawn's Lace' it says here."

"Three, five... three, five..." Ghedlyn murmured to herself, too low for Rayanne to hear. Three to five. Five to eight. Eight to thirteen.

Suddenly, the sky was vast. The wind whispered across the stiff grasses. Orange light died more to purple where the sun had vanished. Wispy clouds scudded along heights turning nearly black, allowing stars to emerge. Not-quite-frozen mud squished as Ghedlyn settled. Coolness of the air drew out gooseflesh. The smell of clean running water from a nearby creek sank into her nose.

She breathed out. Her jaw dropped. Rayanne Sedai bloomed like a star crouched beside her. All harmonies connected back to her, as if she were a stone dropped into a wad of yarn and hopelessly tangled. All harmonies were back.

No mistaking it this time. The Aes Sedai was touching her still. No mistake.

Her jaw lax and her face damp with tears, Ghedlyn glanced from the corner of her eye at the woman sitting next to her. So many patterns there, so many harmonies, reaching from the sun and moon and back to the ground. So deep. Ghedlyn felt as if she were looking through the woman back into something inconceivably vast.

"That seems to have gotten your attention," the Aes Sedai whispered. "Why not look here now? Just see this."

With a shaking hand, Ghedlyn touched the Aes Sedai's wrist and followed where it led to the hand holding open the book. Opaque black skitterings cluttered the worn white page, but there were also picture diagrams.

When Rayanne Sedai's hand left where it touched Ghedlyn on the top of the head, the girl squealed and made a lunge for the woman's other hand still resting in the book. She grabbed hold with both hands; she would not let the harmonies go away again!

"Be calm," Rayanne Sedai said in her ear. The Aes Sedai had reached over, caught one branch of the denuded bush and bent it over until the branch was positioned side-by-side with one of the pictures in the book. "See here?" touching the branch and the image, then the branch.

Still holding onto the Aes Sedai with both of her small hands for her very life, Ghedlyn frowned and squinted.

The picture in the book depicted a bush that did not have quite the same overall symmetry as the actual bush before them. Many branches in the picture were not positioned in the same fashion as those on the actual bush. The picture also lacked foliage, but a second picture beside it showed a similar bush full of small trefoil leaves. The branches diverged from each other at a similar angle. A large image showing a single branch from near perspective looked very much like the one Rayanne Sedai held against the book. The junction nodes where smaller branches subdivided had three and five point symmetry.

"Three, five," Ghedlyn said.

She looked from the image in the book to the tree and back again, comparing. In all the details that mattered, the thing on paper resembled very nearly the bushes all around the camp.

Papa was standing nearby watching them, his hands clasped behind his back. The expression on his face was one Ghedlyn had never seen.

Breathing quickly, her eyes wide, Ghedlyn placed a hand solidly on the book. The book contained something related directly to what stood in the world before her. No large jump of logic suggested that the other things pictured in the book not resembling what she was looking at were also directly related. Ghedlyn felt like she was sitting in the sun, and about to catch fire.

Rayanne suddenly pulled Ghedlyn close against her bosom, hugging her tightly with both arms. The book flipped in the air when Ghedlyn's foot kicked it. "Relax, and release it, child, you must not draw too deeply," she whispered feverishly to Ghedlyn. The Aes Sedai formed that strange harmony again, drawing in like a breath and spinning the piece of tapestry almost too quickly for Ghedlyn to follow. The wafting weave slammed tight around Ghedlyn, forcing her to cry out in grief and pain.

Ghedlyn screamed and fought. She did not want to lose the harmonies again! She was bereft without them. Nothing made sense at all. She tried to hold tight and even lasted for a moment, but the warmth and wellness vanished as the webwork came inexorably closed.

Wordlessly, hopelessly, she cried and struggled. It was gone again! The world was quiet and wrong.

Through it all, Rayanne murmured continuously in her ear, "I know it hurts you, but you must learn control."

Crying, nose streaming wildly, tears a flood on her cheeks, Ghedlyn felt completely lost. This Aes Sedai woman could stop the stars from shining. The woman did not care about proper patterns; she could simply change them at will. Ghedlyn had never felt quite so small or lost, except when Mama never came back. "Bring it back, please, bring it back, please, bring it back, please," she begged. She could not live without it. She could not exist without it.

In Ghedlyn's ear, Rayanne said, very softly, "The warmth is called _saidar_, child. We Aes Sedai call it _saidar_. Will you repeat it for me? It has been called _saidar_ since long before you or I ever knew it."

"...bring it back, please..." Ghedlyn continued to bleat. That was all she could think to do.

"_Saidar_," Rayanne repeated, "do you understand my words child? You must repeat the name for me."

"Sss-ss-sai," Ghedlyn shook her head. She would do anything to recover it, she would break any pattern in life. She would pay any price at all, "Saiy-darrr."

"If you draw _saidar_ too deeply," Rayanne continued, "it will burn you like the sun and you will never touch it again. Do you understand my words?"

"Bring it back, please, Saiydar, bring it back, please, Saiydar," she continued to beg, grabbing one of Rayanne's hands with both of her own in desperate hope that the touch would once again free her from the searing absence.

"Until you have control," Rayanne told her, "we will do it together. Picture a flower bud in your mind. You are a flower bud. Nod if you understand."

"Saiydar," Ghedlyn slurred through her sniffles. She nodded shakily, "...flower."

"When the sun shines, the flower opens to catch it. You are the flower and _saidar_ is the sun."

"Flower sun, flower sun," Ghedlyn repeated. She nodded and continued to nod. Anything to bring the harmony back. Anything for _saidar_. Anything at all.

"When you are on the edge of touching the sun, I will be there. I will be another flower and we will both catch the sun."

Ghedlyn stiffened and gasped. The blockage suddenly vanished. Hints of harmonies exploded all around her. She tried to listen to what the Aes Sedai said. It had never been flower and sun to her, it simply always just came. She did not quite understand what it was or where it came from or even that it could be controlled. She only understood that it was. She tried to think of a flower, but it came on her so suddenly, the heightening clarity of touch and vision and sound. Ghedlyn cried out in sorrow; she just knew Rayanne was going to block it all away again.

Rayanne, on the other hand, had been ready.

Just ahead of the warmth, Ghedlyn felt something she had never felt before. Rayanne was a presence, like a luminous pillar, that suddenly lunged out through Ghedlyn and caught the warmth. The woman was there with her, holding her, basking in the warmth, drawing through her. The harmonies were all around them both.

Ghedlyn quieted. It surrounded them together, as if they were a single star fallen to ground.

She could have stayed in that place for the rest of her life, could have lived happily forever in the embrace with that woman. The structure of this new harmony Ghedlyn knew was exactly proper, even though she had not witnessed it before. The only thing similar had been Mama, but that had never come back.


	8. 1-8 Hold Back River Erinin

Rayanne stolidly focused on maintaining Aes Sedai serenity, focused on keeping her face flat and expressionless. She had known she would need to form a link with the girl sooner or later since standard teaching practices promised failure with Ghedlyn. With the link actually formed, she found herself stunned.

During the struggle, Rayanne had been concerned that Ghedlyn would actually manage to shrug off the shield weave this time. For a breathless moment, the girl's undiluted desperation had actually prevented Rayanne from wedging the shield in to disconnect her from the source.

Rayanne did not want to fail here. Not this time.

The child was already very strong in the power. She brought into the link an incredible, impossible capacity that totally belied her tiny frame. She exploded with an enviable depth, as if she were holding back the entire river Erinin. Rayanne knew that once she fully matured, Ghedlyn would be by far the stronger woman at channeling. If she went where such strength could take her, Rayanne would defer to her one day. Few Aes Sedai alive would be a match. But, despite her potential, Rayanne sensed no effort on the part of the girl to channel her incredible strength. The black-haired child had drawn more and more deeply from the source throughout the struggle without spinning out a single thread of Spirit or Wind or anything else. How could she possibly still be alive?

Because the girl could already surrender so effortlessly to _saidar_, as if she had been born bowled over, Rayanne had not been certain she would be able to draw the link quickly enough. When she released the shield, hoping for a few seconds where Ghedlyn might actually pause to do the visualizations everyone else depended upon, Rayanne had needed to leap to intercept the child from drawing in again right to the brink. It had taken Rayanne four years as a novice to learn to subsume herself enough to consistently surrender to _saidar_ and then never as strongly as Ghedlyn already could. And this tiny wilder did not even know that she was doing it. Rayanne thought it might be years before the girl became cognitively aware of the difference between holding _saidar_ and not holding it.

Allerria had been exactly correct; contact with the one power had altered this girl so completely that hope might not exist of recovering the seeds of personality that should have been germinating in an otherwise normal six year old child. From her observations throughout the day, Rayanne had come to the conclusion that Ghedlyn spent every waking second of her life weighing and evaluating the world around her from a completely power-saturated perspective. The girl's desperation at not being cut off from the source again only solidified that opinion.

Rayanne still wanted to see the girl able one day to test for the shawl, but -sitting with Ghedlyn nestled in her arms- she honestly did not know how she would be able to make it happen. In this one case, _saidar_ was truly a disease.


	9. 1-9 Scratches in the Dirt

Wagon wheels rumbled. Laconic Pidge whinnied plaintively when Papa flipped the reins to keep him on track. Rayanne spoke in a thoughtful hush to Nordel, watching where her horse meandered and sparing glances for Ghedlyn when the opportunity arose. Ghedlyn sat in the bed of the cart, wrapped in her favorite fur, completely unaware of anything but the object of her interest; the heavy book with the myriad of pictures lay open in the straw at her knees.

As had become their new pattern, Rayanne had once again "linked" with Ghedlyn when the latter awoke that morning, permitting Ghedlyn to feel the structures of existence throughout the day. 'Throughout' was relative since the Aes Sedai sometimes stopped the connection while insisting she needed to rest. Ghedlyn did not have a clue what Rayanne did to forge the thing she called a link, nor how the Aes Sedai prevented her from feeling normal before that, but she found some contentment in her quasi steady-state relationship with the interloping woman. For the moment at least, her discovery of the book kept her from worrying herself raw over the continued disruption of typical life. Mostly, the book kept her from facing the unwelcome reality of ephemeral _saidar_ and that every structure she understood to be real very likely would not survive the next few weeks.

The leather backed book was thick and heavy when closed, its binding creased by ages of use. Its many paper pages bore smudges from stray fingers, as though countless hands had flipped through the accumulation of sheets in search of some sketch or another. She did not know whether the pages had been assembled together all at once, or in a series over a long period, though the uniform construction of the binding suggested all at once.

It had taken Ghedlyn half a day to relocate the pictures Rayanne originally showed her. Once she found the familiar images amid hundreds of others, Ghedlyn counted pages from the right hand cover so that she knew how to find those same pictures again. There were so many pictures of so many different plants and animals, Ghedlyn did not know how anyone could possibly locate a particular one. She knew it had taken her a half a day to accomplish what Rayanne Sedai managed in only the short time they had been stopped that evening. Certainly the Aes Sedai could not have known a half day in advance which image to show Ghedlyn -that kind of bush had been the first Ghedlyn had ever seen during her whole travel with Papa. Could the woman possibly have remembered those particular pictures from a collection of hundreds? That seemed unlikely at best. Since the images were unique, stumbling over the correct ones at random also seemed unlikely. These deductions told Ghedlyn that there needed to be a deeper order to the book which made it possible for a person to rapidly find a specific picture, possibly without knowing the picture was there to be found. Ghedlyn wanted badly to understand that pattern.

Since reaching their accord, the woman still touched and hugged Ghedlyn nearly every time they were close. This bothered Ghedlyn greatly, but she could not figure out exactly what to do about it. Rayanne would compulsively hug her when all she wanted was an explanation of how the book worked. When they stopped to camp or eat, Rayanne showed Ghedlyn other examples of local vegetation also depicted in the book, but she did so too quickly for Ghedlyn to fully understand how. The Aes Sedai frequently spoke to Ghedlyn about _saidar_, though Ghedlyn's interest lingered on the patterns trapped in the mysterious paper tome.

It was lunch again and the sun stood high. Rayanne had finished telling Ghedlyn something more about _saidar_ -which Ghedlyn had ignored- and sat talking to Papa, who always looked uncomfortable around the Aes Sedai. Nordel the warder plucked out a happy tune on his little harp, as he sometimes did when the grind of wagon wheels became especially tiring. Ghedlyn sat on the half-thawed ground by herself, feeling _saidar_ warmth suffused through her limbs as she flipped the pages of the book back and forth. Harmonies moved in intricate fashion under her scrutiny, lacing sheets to their binding and to their surroundings in evanescent flexibility. The book felt correct closed or open. It moved through and into her hands and knees when she touched it, bouncing off the wind when it blew.

Nestled between the pictures on the paper sheets were elaborate scratchings made in dark lead or ink. From the images of trees, small plants and animals, Ghedlyn had long since decided that the book was intended to be opened such that the pictures stood upright -suggesting the scratches were properly upright as well. Ghedlyn had seen writing before; on signs to some town inns, or on carts displaying wares. She had seen her father produce it with ink when he mailed letters to his assistants. She understood that the arcane scrawl of writing represented spoken sounds from when her father had read to her, but she had not ever been interested in understanding the not-necessarily one-to-one relationship between a visual symbol and a spoken word. She felt certain that the pattern ordering the book was trapped in some way in these symbols, though she did not know for certain. By examination, she found forty-two discrete symbols, repeated over and over again, collected in small groups arranged such that they always ran in horizontal lines. Having watched her father write these same sorts of symbols before, she recalled his darting quill racing from one side of a paper sheet to another stringing together scratchings almost at random. The groups of symbols were sometimes repeated, although a particular symbol could occur in many different groups. She suspected the groups were probably words, though she could not confirm which. She needed much more information for that.

One particular group of symbols had caught her interest due to its repetition. On the top, outside corner of almost every page, both front and back, there always appeared a small, distinct cluster of between one and three symbols. They were positioned such that if the book were closed, the symbols would line up spatially together in one upper corner opposite the binding. Not one of these groups was identical to any other, though the symbols were always from a sub-collection of ten out of the full forty two symbols. In a group of three symbols, what really intrigued Ghedlyn was that the symbol furthest to the right was repeated in every tenth appearance of the group on successive pages. Every five sheets, counting both front and back of a sheet, the same symbol would be repeated exactly as displayed five sheets earlier. The ordering was exact and consistent throughout the book. Ghedlyn knew for certain that these particular symbols absolutely had to represent numbers! No other pattern made sense. Tying numbers to paper sheets immediately suggested a basis for organizing the book. Maybe Rayanne needed only to know a certain number with respect to the book to find a particular picture so quickly.

Deciding how these number symbols were arrayed required another leap. Depending on how she opened the book, the first nine sheets had only a single number symbol. After that, the next ninety groups consisted of two symbols. Beyond, every sheet had three symbols per grouping, which was the typical state of the symbol group through most of the book. Set against a series of numbers starting with 1, this implied that the first nine pages showed the symbols 1 to 9 in order, and that the next eighty nine showed the symbols 10 to 99. After that, the three symbol groups were for numbers 100 and greater. The book stopped numbering after 892, but Ghedlyn had already determined how to represent one thousand, or one million or one billion. This harmony needed to be a conservative one, or it would never work.

On the soft ground next to the book, with a piece of twig, Ghedlyn reproduced the number symbols and said them aloud, "One," scratch, the shape was simple. "Two," that shape was not so simple, but she did it anyway. She flipped pages, "Three... four," she labored on four because it needed two scratches and she did not know in what order. By the time she reached, "Ten," she realized Nordel had stopped plucking at his harp and Papa and Rayanne Sedai were no longer talking.

* * *

End of Book 1


	10. 2-1 Burned Paper

**Youngest Channeler: Book 2  
**by viggen

Her slippers scuffing on the intricate Tiarin rug which covered the polished stone floor of Romanda's quarters, Allerria clicked the door closed in her wake and turned to meet the elder Yellow Ajah Aes Sedai.

She passed the letter into Romanda's hands without saying a thing. Romanda turned the paper over and inspected the broken wax seal, "I presume this was you?"

"Of course," Allerria nodded, "It was sealed when it reached my hands. No eyes but ours have read this yet. Rayanne gave it to the courier with instructions for it to reach either of us."

"No eyes but yours have read it yet," Romanda corrected, then opened the letter and scanned the contents.

Allerria stood with baited breath while the other Aes Sedai's eyes tracked back and forth along the page. Romanda grunted once as she read, "The woman's script is fit for a horse thief..." She read several seconds longer.

Once she finished, Romanda's face fell into an inscrutable mask. She met Allerria's searching gaze with only blunt thoughtfulness. Her ageless features and the few streaks of gray in her hair accented the lack of reaction that she expressed.

"The Amyrlin will be pleased to read this," she said after a moment.

"Pleased?" Allerria replied, "I think the word you're looking for is 'ecstatic.'"

"A matter of weeks and the child is already writing?" Romanda said significantly, "Taught herself numbers? What else might she learn?"

"You read the letter," Allerria snatched the sheet from Romanda's hand and read aloud, "'We have been on this farm for weeks now and the child still screams. Her memory is sharp and anything that ever changes, she notices. We were forced to pull the tradesman's cart in close to the farm manor house so that the girl could sleep beneath it for the first week. That was her favorite sleeping place on the road, I'm afraid, and she refused to give it over without a significant fight. When I finally tired of her antics, I threw her into a room with a feather bed and left her there dusk to dawn. The little harridan screamed the entire night. I do not know what we will have to do when I bring her back to sign the Novice book.' I need to read no more to realize that this girl is not novice material."

"But the Tower cannot just put her out," Romanda reminded her, "If this one becomes strong, she must not be left free of control."

"'So complete is her focus that she sees nothing but her patterns,'" Allerria continued to read, "'She can become as stubborn as an oak if some aspect of the world around her does not perform precisely as expected at any given time, according to whatever pattern she has established in her mind. To start, she will eat exactly the same foods morning, noon and night. She must have cheese, it must be yellow and from a wheel, or she refuses to touch it. Every fifth day of the week, she must have at least one cup of goat's milk with breakfast, or she pouts until noon. When she agrees to eat, it must be at exactly a particular time or not at all. How she knows when, I cannot tell, but she is as invariant as a crafted mechanism.'" Allerria shook her head in aversion, "Maybe whippings from the Mistress of Novices can straighten her out, but this child is a borderline abomination. You read everything Rayanne wrote about linking with the girl in order to control her touching the source. Can we afford to have even an Aes Sedai like Rayanne tied up catering to every whim of this one freak of nature?"

"Maybe you would prefer that 'freak' to wander the countryside unattended?" Romanda suggested.

"The girl is as insane as any man who channels. And we Gentle them," Allerria said, "She is obsessed. This pattern thing that she does is an obsession. Teaching herself numbers?"

"Were you able to teach yourself to write numbers?" Romanda asked, "Rayanne says in there that she writes numbers as high as it is possible to count and was doing simple arithmetic with her limited skills before Rayanne even began to teach her more about writing. It has been weeks and she is not merely capable of writing, she is already skilled at it. Imagine if such a child can make it to the shawl."

"It seems to me that you and the Amyrlin and most especially Rayanne are doing more than enough imagining," Allerria quipped bitterly. "Someone has to be practical."

"I would almost think you might be jealous of our little Rayanne for pulling this duty?" Romanda commented with a sanguine grin, "Perhaps you might do a better job?"

Allerria shook her head and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, "If she channels, what then? Linking with the girl in order to keep her from drawing too deeply? If she comes to the White Tower as a novice needing a full Aes Sedai with her on a leash, how does that set her future -both in the eyes of all Aes Sedai and in the eyes of all the novices and Accepted? I concede that she should not be Stilled, at least not right away, but what then should we do?"

Romanda nodded, "These are valid points. As you say, the girl cannot come to the Tower, at least in the foreseeable future. If she cannot be controlled, the farm is the best place to keep her."

"What about next year, or five or ten years from now," Allerria asked, "I know Rayanne will happily labor away trying to set this child right with some metaphorical inner spirit, but that girl is truly a danger. This is not a farm girl who contemplates suicide. This one could properly set the entire farm and half the country-side on fire in a fit of some juvenile pyromania. What if Rayanne is not up to the proper teaching? Someone more skilled cannot be tied up with this girl for the long-term, but can Rayanne manage even the short term? Any real progress toward a child capable of living in the novice quarters may be years away."

Half-thoughtfully, Romanda recovered the letter from Allerria. She channeled a flick of Fire into the piece of paper and set it alight. Careful of the liquid flame spreading to conceal the words, she dropped the blackening sheet onto her fireplace mantle. "For the moment, we shall wait and see. We will keep this latest news between the two of us until there is no other choice. You keep your mouth closed and continue to be practical and I will decide what we should tell the Amyrlin. We'll give Rayanne some time to prove herself. If the girl lives long enough, we will decide what to do next."

Without another spoken word on the matter, both Aes Sedai went their separate ways. Walking to her writing desk while the door clicked closed behind Allerria, Romanda pondered the black ashes of the burned paper.


	11. 2-2 By Feel

Ghedlyn hugged Rayanne Sedai, just as she did every morning. The golden-haired, blue-eyed Aes Sedai was always warm to touch, always soft and gentle. She liked hugging Rayanne. It reminded her of other hugs somewhere in the distant past. They hugged once every morning and once every evening, exactly as had become custom. She even looked forward to it, though Rayanne Sedai always touched her at random times during the day anyway. Of course, she had come to expect that pattern too. A departure from the harmony would be to not be touched by the woman.

"How far will you draw?" Rayanne asked, just as she always did.

Ghedlyn shuffled her feet and slewed her eyes away, not making contact with the Aes Sedai. "How far will I draw? How far?" Ghedlyn repeated the litany, just as she always did, word for word. She looked away, at a pot-bellied stove in the corner of the great room on the ground floor of the manor house. "No more than the stove. Just the fire in the stove. I draw so much and no more." She did the exercise she and Rayanne Aes Sedai developed together. It had taken the better part of a year for her to get used to the activity and for it to get to the point where Rayanne consistently allowed her to always feel the harmonies completely on her own. Rayanne only linked with her once a week these days; she did not like that structure alteration, but the Aes Sedai always deliberately caused things to change. If she went too far, Rayanne cut the warmth off and she had decided once-upon-a-time to never allow that to happen again. She would do anything not to get cut off ever again from the voice of the world. Ghedlyn allowed herself to relax and felt the flowing warmth of the ethereal song, whispering into her ears and bringing clarity to her eyes, bringing acute cool and warmth to her skin and scent to her nose. This far and no further, she thought over and over. Rayanne shined like the sun, as she always did, drawing in herself just as far as Ghedlyn allowed herself to open.

The warmth was what Rayanne called "_saidar_." Months of work gave her the name _saidar_. Months of Rayanne Sedai saying it over and over again made her believe in it. _Saidar_ was part of the great harmony, part of the breath of the world. Ghedlyn barely understood the idea of the warmth, but she had a name for it. Names and symbols meant a lot.

Rayanne Sedai continued with their shared ritual. The Aes Sedai did not like to keep such patterns, but she maintained this one religiously. She patted Ghedlyn on the head, "Now tell me about the five powers."

"Water and Wind are for women," Ghedlyn responded, her black eyes rolling in their sockets, "Fire and Earth for men. Spirit for both." Rayanne Sedai always asked some question about _saidar_ and channeling, always tested to see if she had decided to listen. The Aes Sedai asked many of the same questions over and over again, but she had no set order of asking. "Water, Wind, Fire, Earth, Spirit."

"Will you weave for me today?" Rayanne asked, a smile crossing her face. She flipped her thick golden braid over her shoulder and stooped slightly to meet Ghedlyn's eye level.

Half turned away, Ghedlyn shook her head. She always shook her head the first time and had for a year.

"Weave please, one light globe," Rayanne asked. This new permutation was three and a half weeks old.

As usual, Ghedlyn refused, wordlessly. But then, Rayanne had taken this approach to changing the harmony from the very beginning, poking, prodding, asking, cajoling day by day by day until the pattern shifted Ghedlyn into doing something she had not done before. Ghedlyn understood the process and expected it. But, she still did not see how to channel, no matter how many times Rayanne tried to demonstrate. Reality itself existed in this one way and weaving the way Rayanne Sedai did was something she just could not do. It distorted the shape of the pattern, like a cloud scudding across the sun.

"Be careful out there," Rayanne bade her, knowing full well Ghedlyn would say nothing back. The Aes Sedai disappeared into the kitchen while Ghedlyn went out the door.

The first thing Ghedlyn did when she entered into the manor house dooryard was a pattern she developed about a year after they arrived on the farm. She had long since realized that the harmonies of her world drifted slightly every day of life. Carrying her favorite book under an arm, the one by Hitsac Newten, "Principia Mathematica," she walked several spans along the wall and stooped to recover her scratching stone from the recess in the wall where she hid it. She always returned the stone to the same place when she went inside each evening so that she would be able to find it again the next morning. A long time ago, she had been more careless where she put her special stone -careless enough to put it right next to the door- until one of the farm-hands accidently kicked it out into the yard and forced Ghedlyn to spend two days frantically searching every stone until she got this one back. After that incident, she began putting her stone in the little recess along the manor house wall where no one would be able to accidently move it without going well out of their way -the choice had been a unique instance of her choosing to change one pattern in order to preserve another. One of the other farm children who was nearly Ghedlyn's age also periodically tried to steal the stone and hide it from her, just to see her frantic, but she quickly learned to hide the stone in order to prevent its now infrequent theft. Ghedlyn did not like the attention of the younger or older children, who always noticed her most when her stone got stolen.

Scratching stone in hand and ignoring all else, she tromped quickly across the door yard to a fence post set in packed dirt along the edge of the eastern field. The ground on one side of the post had been tamped flat with Ghedlyn's daily visitations. The black haired girl backed herself against the post, which still stood taller than she, and placed Newten's book atop her head. She carefully aligned herself with the post, then pushed the bound book until it pressed securely against the wood. In one deft and well practiced movement, she ducked out from under the book and scored a mark using her stone on the post where the book rested against the wood.

Tucking the book against her side, she squinted up at the mark she had just scratched. Hundreds of marks, made on a daily basis over the course of several years, formed a steady tract of wear up the side of the post. Where older marks were weather beaten, the ascending path became gradually more fresh and sharp until it dead-ended in the scratch of this day. The record stated simply that Ghedlyn was still growing larger with respect to the wooden post, which was dead and did not grow at all.

The revelation that she herself was changing had been a difficult one which she now tracked carefully. According to talk by Rayanne Sedai and by women who worked household chores, Ghedlyn expected there would be other, much more drastic changes in the not too distant future. The deduction was simple: she had seen adult women, adult men and some of the older adolescents, and compared them carefully to children like herself. Where other children simply accepted growing up, the idea that she herself was not who she thought she was from day to day made her deeply nervous, as if she were about to sprout a third eye in the middle of her forehead. Awakening to find that dreaded additional eye had been a horrific nightmare on a night two years and twenty six days ago, which repeated rather regularly since. She expected fully that a number of changes were going to have to happen eventually in order to make her own skinny, short, stick-figure of a body into something similar to what she saw in the women around her. She dreaded the day she awakened and did not recognize her own reflection, but she also realized that some of these alterations, like her increase in height, happened so slowly that she did not notice them.

On the farm, everyone had chores, even weak little girls. Rayanne Sedai always requisitioned Ghedlyn on the fourth day of the week for help with laundry, but other women refused to work with her since she insisted on sorting the clothing in a particular order before she started. In the end, her daily chore, which she always did, even in the dead of winter, was to bring water from the well up to the manor house. It made a good chore because it almost always worked in exactly the same way. Rayanne Sedai had tried to give Ghedlyn other work to do, but various members of the household always ended up angry with the "little idiot girl." She had been exiled from the clanging smithy, from the snuffling horse stalls and scratchy hay lofts of the barn, from the dying room and looms as well as from various other areas so that no one would have to encounter her when they were busy. People were not precisely nasty to her, but they preferred to go about their business without her around. Of course, she did not mind; she did not like being the focus of attention.

Book tucked under her arm and favorite scratching rock in the pocket of her white dress, Ghedlyn found her bucket. She always put the bucket beside the tool shed near the horse barn. The spot where she kept it was worn into a depression. Stooping to pick up the bucket by its rope handle, she abruptly stopped. A deep "croak!" issued forth from the wooden container.

A toad hunkered in the bottom of the bucket.

Ghedlyn looked at the green, worty creature, stepped back and walked in a little circle, then stopped and gazed down into the bucket again. She had never found an animal in her water bucket before. Flustered, her head swinging side to side, she walked clear around the tool shed before coming back to the bucket and looking down into it. She did not know what exactly to do.

"Ha, ha ha!" Alibet stepped out from where he had been hiding behind the tree, two other, younger little boys giggled behind him, "Look at her go! Round and round she goes! When Whitey stops nobody knows!"

Eyes rolling, Ghedlyn halted and looked into the bucket again. Squeezing the book against her side, she put her free hand over one ear, crouched down and balled herself up against the wall of the shed. She did not know how best to make Alibet disappear. Removing him from her senses only served to increase his boldness, but she did not have the slightest idea what else to do.

"Tuck up into her shell, goes the turtle girl," laughing and jeering, Alibet stood over her in a second, "a frog in a bucket and she pops apart, Whitey turtle girl!"

Ghedlyn had no idea what to do. The boy always figured out new ways to make an annoyance of himself.

"They're over here, quick!" someone else cried. Ghedlyn recognized the girl who was nearly her age. Sildane was the only child on the farm who treated her with anything other than distance or ridicule.

"Alibet!" she recognized Papa's voice.

"Alibet! What are you doing out here?" Tempedan, the blacksmith, called in his baritone.

"Yeep," Alibet jumped back. Being the blacksmith's youngest apprentice, Alibet could already see he was in for a whipping.

Ghedlyn continued to press her head against the wall of the shed. She was shaking.

"Thank you Sildane," said Papa, "I'll pay you back, as promised..."

Burly Tempedan grabbed Alibet by the ear and marched the sandy-haired boy across the dooryard, "Boy, if you have enough time to torment the Aes Sedai's ward, you most certainly do not have enough work on your hands..."

"Master! Master, I didn't mean... I was just...!" Alibet protested. His two friends had evaporated like morning mist from behind the tree, instantly nowhere near to be found.

"Save it for the forge," Tempedan grumbled tiredly, "I'll hammer the wickedness out of you today. Trademan Prim, forgive my wayward apprentice."

"Of course," Papa replied. He had crouched down and set his arm over Ghedlyn's shoulder with his hand on the wall of the shed, not quite touching her, but physically close. "Well, he's gone now, I suppose we can be off and doing our work." He patted Ghedlyn gently on the shoulder, then stood.

She reached out and touched Papa's leg as he turned to leave. She did not see him smile down at her.

"Sildane, I have to leave the farm for several days to do some trading," Papa said as he and the little brassy-haired girl walked away. Ghedlyn opened her eyelids and glanced from the corner of her eye to watch them leave. She was thankful for the intervention. When Papa spoke to Sildane he had turned his head over his shoulder so that Ghedlyn could also hear. "When I come back, I'll have a nice new dress for you, blue and green to match the bronze of your hair. I'll bring back a white dress too, in a particular size..."

"Why does she do that, Tradesman?" Sildane asked, "Does she never talk to anyone?"

"It's her way," Papa said with a shrug. "Her meanings are... her own."

Ghedlyn had long since grown used to Sildane being her shadow. The other girl, just less than a year older than she, had come to keep tabs on Ghedlyn as a request by both Papa and Rayanne Sedai. Sildane also carried water sometimes in the morning and followed Ghedlyn around when she was free in the afternoon. She would step in if other girls tried to tease Ghedlyn.

Relieved of a morning jeering, Ghedlyn still did not know what to do about the frog croaking away down in the bottom of her bucket, but she was going to be late starting her chore. She needed to begin by a particular time. Sitting in front of the bucket, she squinted hard.

Sildane returned a moment later. The other girl crouched beside Ghedlyn, reached down into the bucket and lifted out the frog. "It's just a big old toad," Sildane said, pointedly trying not to look at Ghedlyn, but obviously failing. "See how big and pretty he is?" she held the creature up for Ghedlyn to see. The toad was large enough that Sildane needed two hands to lift it, "Why don't you touch him? Except the warts, he's smooth and damp. I don't think he'd hurt a fly. Well, maybe a fly since that's what he eats, but he would never hurt us."

Her dark eyes wide, Ghedlyn stared at the creature. She had come face to face with them before, but never one hunkered in the depths of her water bucket. The thing had such big, bulging eyes. Its throat puffed in and out as if it were eating. It was woven to the bucket, woven to a particular plank in the bucket. Ghedlyn had not seen it before. The toad needed to be in the bucket. Dropping her favorite book, she impulsively reached out and caught the toad from Sildane and lowered it carefully back down into the bucket.

"I, well, okay," Sildane said, dusting her hands off on her dress. "I have to start carrying water. You need to find another bucket if you plan to start too."

Ghedlyn stared at the bucket, just sat and stared.

At that moment, she felt something strange, not the usual warmth of _saidar_, nor the feel of Rayanne Sedai, but something altogether different. The patterns surrounding the farm felt bent, strained almost. The winds blew across freshly planted fields. Chickens clucked in their enclosure. The chime of the blacksmith's hammer had resumed and the brimstone smell from the forge surged. Something intruded, shifting the flows of harmony just the tiniest degree.

Two strangers in long cloaks with their hoods raised walked across the dooryard. Ghedlyn knew an Aes Sedai by feel now.


	12. 2-3 Important Matters

"You look well," Allerria greeted Rayanne.

Rayanne nodded, "Couldn't pass up the opportunity to come check on me, could you? I am truly surprised to find you so far from your clinics in Tar Valon and from patients in the Tower."

"Matters needed attention," Allerria said as she and Rayanne entered the kitchen. "Romanda could not come. I cannot tarry long; we must speak at once."

"Tea?" Rayanne asked.

"If you will," the other yellow sister said. Allerria as the stronger demanded the deference due her rank and Rayanne adopted traditional subservience as donning a cloak.

"How do you like it?" She asked as she poured water and channeled to heat it.

Allerria shook her head, distracted for a moment, "A little honey, not much. That child must hold the source constantly."

"Dawn to dusk," Rayanne acknowledged coolly, "Did you come about my petition?"

"Among other matters," Allerria sighed.

The two Aes Sedai sat down on stools by the stove. Allerria embraced _saidar_ and wove a ward against evesdropping before binding the door to the kitchen with a bar of Air. Rayanne might once have envied the other woman's greater strength, but one plays the cards one is dealt.

"The girl is, what, almost eleven years old now?" Allerria began while Rayanne took a sip from her tea cup. "Is there a particular reason why you have her wearing novice white?"

"As I told you before; I will see her taken into the Tower," Rayanne insisted, "I did make the petition through the correct channels. In a year or two, she will be the age of a young novice. I have her wearing white now so that she does not make a fuss about it when the time comes for her to live in the novice quarters. If I did otherwise, she will be a screaming wreck her first month in the Tower. It took me four turns of the moon just get her to wear white. Moving to the Tower will be trauma enough."

Allerria grunted and took a sip from her tea, "Matters are never simple. About the petition -while you say she has finally become stable embracing the source, her strength is already beyond that of girls twice her age. She will never fit in. We cannot have a special case like this one living among other novices. More than that, you do not know how to teach her. Does she even have an ounce of channeling skill yet? Your last messages indicated not."

"She avoids it," admitted Rayanne stiffly. Only an Aes Sedai would detect her discomfiture.

"You know what I think of this child," Allerria reminded her.

"You continue to believe she should be Stilled?" Rayanne felt her stomach lurch.

"I felt her on the way in," Allerria said, "and she is strong now. How strong will she be as a mature, and mind you insane, woman?"

"She's just a child," Rayanne shook her head, "taking the source from her would destroy her."

"First, the Amyrlin agreed that Ghedlyn cannot come to the Tower at this time. She is just too dangerous." Allerria told her flatly.

"That's not fair," Rayanne said, "the Amyrlin was the one who originally wanted to put Ghedlyn in touch with her gift..."

"Have you ever asked yourself what Ghedlyn's gift is?" Allerria asked, "Have you ever wondered the path her talents point? The Amyrlin Seat saw it almost right away."

Rayanne clamped her mouth closed.

"The second matter I was to speak to you about is something simple," Allerria went on. "Until now, you have sent monthly reports to the Tower on Ghedlyn's progress. From this moment on, information about this girl must only travel by word of mouth. As far as the Hall of the Tower is concerned, Ghedlyn Prim does not exist. Her existence is to be Sealed to the Seat. Aside for the Amyrlin, only a few sisters in the Yellow will know about this child and we will pass news about her directly, only between sisters."

Rayanne's jaw dropped slightly.

"The third matter we needed to speak about is the most important. If you feel angry about the Amyrlin rejecting your petition that Ghedlyn be admitted as a novice, this will probably make up for it, as much as I regret it."

Allerria lifted several sheets of paper from her traveling scrip, "Do you recognize these?"

After a moment of silence, Rayanne nodded, "Of course, I sent them."

"These have sealed Ghedlyn's fate."


	13. 2-4 Strands of the Tapestry

Ghedlyn grudgingly left the bucket containing the toad beside the tool shed. She did not want to leave, but saw no alternative. Sildane helped find another bucket, from the barn she said, though Ghedlyn did not reply.

While the bucket was not correct, Ghedlyn knew Harmony demanded conservation. She chose to live with the new bucket even though she did not like it.

Her favorite book carried under one arm, Ghedlyn lugged bucket after bucket of water from the well to the house. She made exactly the same number of trips every time: twenty-one. No more than twenty-one and no less. Sildane also carried water, though she usually carried a few more pails since she was a little older, a little larger and not hauling a book under one arm. Sildane pretended to be disinterested in speaking to Ghedlyn and Ghedlyn, for her own part, never made any effort to break her silence with the other girl. Whenever they passed each other on the way between the house cistern and the well, Sildane looked Ghedlyn up and down hopefully then continued on. Ghedlyn never noticed. Each and every methodical step she took, her mind remained fixed only on the bucket and toad waiting for her. After making the allotted number of trips, the house cistern stood full and they were finished.

The toad had not escaped when Ghedlyn eagerly returned at last.

Of course, the toad would not want to free itself; this situation was meant to be. The harmony formed by the fat, green creature lumped in the bottom of a wooden bucket intoxicated Ghedlyn. She pushed the container side to side to see if the formation depended on position, and found that it did not. The toad belonged in the bucket.

Very carefully, Ghedlyn tipped the pail onto its side. The harmony changed slightly, re-lacing with the ground, and became minutely better tuned, though in a different way. The scent of it seemed like light from the moon refracted through a fine vapor over shining water.

Ghedlyn set Hitsac Newten's "Principia Mathematica" down in the dust, the leather cover worn from her unending deprecations, and leafed through it. She knew the book so well that she recognized the contents of every single page purely by touch. All her efforts shifted the act of looking at the forms from a necessity to a thoughtless habit. Of course, the book had really only been a starting point.

She took her favorite stone from her pocket and began to scratch marks into the dirt. This pattern related to another she had seen -a cricket caught in a cup- but the transformations were not linear. She traced out symbolism to help represent the structure and then started working her way through the relationships laid out before her. In moments, she had cluttered the ground around the bucket with script. She flew from one transformation to the next, from space to space to space, working from one end of the problem, then another, then yet another. If the structure were an octopus, Ghedlyn had danced from one tentacle to the next, landing on each just long enough to form an impression of the entire animal. A few threads of logic met somewhere in the middle, hinting at a new way to approach the representation. Ghedlyn frowned. She began the problem again on the new premise, rapidly increasing the clutter of symbology already scratched into the dirt at her knees.

"What in the world do you write?" Sildane wondered, as she crouched next to Ghedlyn and stared at the black-eyed girl's work. "Do you even know that I'm here?"

Ghedlyn cocked her head to the side. Sildane's voice resonated with the pail. Looking indirectly at the bronze-haired girl, Ghedlyn carefully rolled the bucket slightly toward Sildane. Strands of the tapestry leaped from Sildane's face, through the bucket, into the ground and off into the wall of the tool shed behind.

"What is it?"

The toad hopped out of the bucket with a croak.

"Ah!" Ghedlyn gasped in surprise. Just like that, the pattern vanished. They almost always dissipated and she almost always missed exactly how.

"What happened?" Sildane asked, watching Ghedlyn sit back on her knees and look toward the sky.

"Again went away again," was all Ghedlyn said.

"You talked to me!" Sildane blurted happily. She abruptly hugged Ghedlyn, then dashed off toward the main house waving her hands over her head, "She talked to me! She talked to me!"

Ghedlyn sat with a frown, her thatch of silky raven hair falling over her face and her almond-shaped black eyes squinted. She could not be certain exactly what had just happened.


	14. 2-5 Unmistakable Earmarks

"She talked to me!" a girl cried over the bang of a door.

Both Aes Sedai glanced toward the sound. Both women were already keyed up from their conversation.

"The Amyrlin believes that?" Rayanne asked again, incredulous.

"I wish I could lie to you," Allerria replied tiredly. "And you say the child produced these sheets you sent?"

Rayanne shook her head, "No. If I could set her to working on paper, maybe. She scrawls this sort of pattern all over the grounds. She has a pointed rock she carries when she's out during the day. Wherever she finds something that catches her interest, she just drops down onto her knees and starts... doing that... everywhere. She writes so much of this arcanum that the field hands come in at night wondering if she's been putting hexes and curses all over the farm. All I did was copy some of what she wrote in the best way I could."

"Romanda and I spoke to a couple of White sisters; one I know from when I was a novice and one Romanda made a real impression on during her teaching. Trustworthy sisters, though we did not tell them where these writings came from," Allerria added quickly. "I have never seen a White fawn over a sheet of paper before. You know them: they usually have their heads up in the clouds."

"Fawn over a paper?" Rayanne asked.

Allerria shrugged, "I do not know what else to call it. My old friend wants to see more of it. I'll never be able to quote what she said about it, called it a 'tensorial metric of non-commutative agelace' or some such. I have no idea what it all means, but the Amyrlin took it seriously..." Allerria shook herself, "but that's all by-the-by. You understand me, though. You understand what we must do."

Rayanne felt her face warm, "I believe I do. I'll work faster. I'll do what I can to have her ready within the year."

"You are an optimist, Rayanne; you've been at her for more than four years now and... certainly not taught her to channel." Allerria commented, "I still doubt the girl will be ready in ten years."

In the ensuing stiff silence, both yellow sisters finished their tea. Rayanne felt some anger and frustration, but she carefully schooled it out of her expression. In the back of her mind, Nordel worked joyfully on some chore in the field, helping to deaden Rayanne's immediate bad-humor. Light shine on that man!

Allerria stood and released the weaves insuring their privacy, "As I told you, I have to leave now. Other Aes Sedai will be steered away from this place as long as Ghedlyn is here. Romanda or I will make this trip once every two months to learn the progress from your mouth directly and you will not send another written message to the Tower. When she is ready, it will be done quickly and in secret and her training will resume either here or on another farm -if she survives. Even if she can't reach the shawl, she must eventually take oaths or die. Anything less might put entire nations at risk." Allerria stopped herself as she flipped the hood of her cloak over her head, "...Before I leave, do you suppose I could see for myself some of this writing she produces?"

"You will probably trip over it on the way out the door," Rayanne exclaimed as she led them from the kitchen, Allerria gliding close at her heels. Allerria's tall warder stood in the main room, arms crossed over his broad chest; he still wore his cloak, but not the color-shifting cloak of a warder. Rayanne realized that Allerria had indeed attempted to come in secret. Yellow Ajah only rarely embarked on cloak and blade exercises and were not regarded as especially skilled at it. Sneaking around was more the purview of Blues.

"Aes Sedai!" cried bronze-haired Sildane, bubbling with excitement, "Ghedlyn talked to me!"

"Really?" Rayanne was surprised at that. "Can you tell me where she's at, Sildane?"

"She was over by the tool shed," Sildane answered, turning to hurry up the stairs toward the second floor of the manor house, "Mama wanted me to do something, sorry Rayanne Sedai."

Rayanne and Allerria looked at one another, their ageless faces betraying nothing.

Allerria shook her head, "It may not be safe to keep that one too near Ghedlyn. She will be making a trip to the Tower herself one of these days."

"Sildane has proven extremely helpful in dealing with Ghedlyn," Rayanne told the other sister while she opened the entry out into the dooryard. "Their interactions seem to have given Sildane a sisterly attitude toward Ghedlyn. Besides, it would be counterproductive to deprive Ghedlyn of even one source of human contact. If I can keep Ghedlyn acclimated to people, a day might come when she no longer makes a fuss meeting people she does not recognize."

"Don't continue to bank on ever seeing her as a normal girl in novice white," Allerria warned.

Again, Rayanne swallowed her pride. The other Aes Sedai stood higher than she. In her heart, she wanted Ghedlyn to stand higher than either of them one day.

Rayanne led Allerria and her fearsome warder across the yard and along the fence. They reached the tool shed but found no Ghedlyn.

"Quite typical," Rayanne exclaimed, "she never seems to stay in one place for long if something else more interesting catches her mind."

"Hmm, I see," Allerria mumbled thoughtfully.

Before the shed, a bucket lay on its side and there were swooping sprawls of scratch marks laid out on the packed earth all around it. To the casual observer, the scrawling looked like a senile old woman had been writing everything from poetry to profanity to laundry lists, all at once. Rayanne could see that Ghedlyn had indeed been here very recently. Nobody could fake her work, not even the few field hands that jokingly tried. Unmistakable earmarks of the little, black-haired girl rang true throughout, though it took a practiced eye to discern one symbol from another.

Allerria lifted one of Rayanne's letters from her scrip and began to compare the mess on the ground with the mess on the paper.

"I did take the three oaths," Rayanne growled at the woman, "you cannot possibly think this is a fantasy or that I manipulated the truth in some manner?"

Allerria regarded her crookedly, "I insinuated no such thing. For what has happened, you cannot blame me for wanting to confirm the truth for myself."

Rayanne snorted and shook her head, then started back across the dooryard toward the manor house without looking at the other Yellow sister.

"Rayanne," Allerria caught her shoulder, "this situation is far out of the usual. From the Amyrlin's excitement, I expect nothing like this has even happened in the secret histories. How like a Brown that woman is."

Rayanne again shook her head and crossed her arms. Ghedlyn was a good girl. Did she truly deserve what would be coming? Like it or not, the Tower saw something in her now that it had not seen in ages.

Allerria pressed a book into Rayanne's hands, "The Amyrlin wants this book in the girl's possession as soon as possible. From your messages, the child has been toting around Newten's 'Principia.' Is that still true?"

"She sleeps with it," Allerria looked at the new book.

"I'm told the 'Principia' is one of the greatest basic mathematics texts in all history, maybe as old as the Age of Legends. The book in your hand contains some of the deepest math the White Ajah has ever explored, dating from when the subject was much better understood than it is now. They will not say as much, but the White believe it from the Age of Legends," Allerria continued, "the Amyrlin told me as much when she gave this book to me. I understand very few living Whites comprehend it... only those rare souls blessed in the Light to see the world in that arcane way."

Rayanne breathed out with a shiver: to put such a thing in the hands of confused little Ghedlyn?

"If Ghedlyn is to learn," Allerria said as she turned to walk toward the barn, "she must learn and learn quickly. She must learn everything she needs. Put her in touch with her gift, Rayanne Sedai, just as the Amyrlin asked..."

Rayanne stood staring at the book and said nothing.


	15. 2-6 Bloody Rag

"From the master," Alibet unceremoniously dumped a clattering armful of horseshoes onto the straw-lined floor. Huge, white Ragabash, tall and spirited in the first stall, gave a huffing whicker.

Nordel smiled warmly, "These don't look like the master's work." Ferrier's hammer loose in one hand, he lifted a horseshoe from straw and checked the curve of the metal. He dropped the shoe with a clang back onto the pile, "If I miss my guess, this has to be your hand?"

Alibet, twisting his mouth in consternation, kicked some straw. Just younger than thirteen, the boy had been pouting for more than two days. Nordel wasn't quite certain where his bout of sulkiness came from, but -knowing Alibet- he had a few creative guesses.

"You know," Nordel returned to the rear foot of the horse he had been shoeing. He lifted the hoof with the horse's cooperation, braced it between his knees and set to tapping in the final nail, "you can either exercise greater wisdom or greater cleverness."

"How do you mean?" Alibet asked, his eyebrows climbing toward his thatch of sandy hair.

"If you are more wise," Nordel released the newly shod hoof from between his knees. The horse whuffled and flipped its tail, "If you are more wise, your actions don't draw you into conflict."

"If I am more wise?" the boy said.

Nordel nodded, "Yes."

"But what about if I'm more clever?" Alibet wondered.

"If you are more clever, then your actions don't draw you into conflict."

"You just said that!" Alibet responded indignantly. "How is it any different to be clever or wise?"

Nordel circled the horse to the other rear hoof. The animal swished its tail as he touched its flank, "If you are more wise, then you pick your actions with care for others because you know that you might need to rely upon them for your own welfare eventually."

"That's no fun!" Alibet squawked.

"If you are more clever," Nordel continued, "then you pick your actions such that others do not realize your intent, which allows you to manipulate them whenever you need and get what you want without them ever knowing."

"I like that way."

Nordel smiled, "Clever, or wise, you avoid conflict."

"Which way do you use?" Alibet asked, wide eyes measuring the warder.

Nordel smiled and deliberately did not respond.

"Are you being clever now?" Alibet pressed.

The warder smiled again at the boy.

"How do I know if you're being clever or wise?" Alibet practically begged.

"How would you rather I be?" Nordel asked him, "Should I be wise or should I be clever?"

"I would want you to be wise," the boy answered.

"Are you afraid of me being clever with you?"

Alibet nodded his head up and down.

"So you would want me to be wise with you while you're clever with me?" Nordel lifted the horse's other rear foot and began to clean out the cracked hoof for a replacement shoe. This animal was cooperative enough that he could do the job largely without help.

"I don't want you to be clever with me," Alibet admitted.

"Well, if you..." he stopped. File paused mid-motion at cleaning grit from the cup of the hoof, Nordel glanced in the direction of the manor house.

Alibet sensed the warder's abrupt shift in mood. "What is it?"

Nordel did not answer. The horse's hoof slipped from between his knees. In the back of his mind, he felt the abrupt surge. To that very minute, for the last couple days, his Aes Sedai had been a brooding ball of nerves. He could feel her tangible disquiet in the miniature presence in his thoughts. Every time he met her, she had been contemplating that new book. She had sat for hours in the kitchen staring at it, as if it were a serpent about to bite her. Now, the brooding had evaporated. The thrilling touched-nerve of surprise burned into his awareness.

Immediately after, a kettledrum stroke of thunder smacked the barn. The boom penetrated as hard as a living fist, fully cocked and flying like a belt to the jaw. Tools and tack hanging from beams around the barn clattered to the ground and the horses all jumped and whinnied as a single soul. Nordel ducked aside to avoid being kicked by the horse he had been shoeing. Another startled horse slammed its feet through the side of its stall. Alibet had dropped to his hands and knees, his face white with surprise. Nordel was moving before the echoing rumble started to fade. His sword an unsheathed glimmer in one hand, he caught the boy by the seat of the pants and tossed him with a lazy heave into the relative safety of the hayloft. Nordel was running flat out before he reached and kicked the barn door open.

The dooryard of the manor house had been transformed. The formerly clear, sunny blue day now drifted with gray smoke and a hail of falling dirt and rocks. Flying splinters of wood bounced off the front of the barn and green leaves fell as if it were actually autumn. Several sheets of loose paper tossed lazily in the rough air.

Rayanne Sedai appeared at the door of the manor house, her face an unreadable mask. She wore one of her favored green dresses with ruby scrollwork along the hems and looked every bit the haughty Aes Sedai, but Nordel knew better. He could feel how close she stood to out-right panic, perhaps ready even to drop to her knees and vomit on the spot.

With farm hands running every direction around her in fear, Rayanne sprinted to meet her warder, "We have to find her, now!" Her urgency accented the flare in her blue eyes. His Aes Sedai had never been a woman interested in doing harm, but he could sense her readiness for whatever might come and her fear of what that might entail.

Tree branches were crashing down onto the roofs of the manor house, barn, out-lying houses and smithy. Rayanne channeled a stiff burst of wind to deflect a falling chunk of wood that might have clobbered her. Nordel fended off flying fragments with idle flicks of his sword.

"The oak," Nordel pointed with his sword tip.

A huge oak that normally provided much of the shade along the eastern side of the comfortable dooryard was simply absent. The posts and bars of a fence that used to close that side of the yard were wrenched apart into scattered puzzle pieces. The abnormally vacant space gave the yard a voluminous and alien air. Wooden debris was strewn everywhere, some still falling and hitting shrieking people.

"Ghedlyn! Find Ghedlyn!" Rayanne shouted at fleeing farm hands while she and Nordel dashed in the smoking emptiness.

The site once occupied by the stately old tree gaped with a hole gouged as if by the creator's hand.

"Find her!" Rayanne ordered.

Nordel and his Aes Sedai split methodically to either side of the hole and began rapidly to turn debris. Nordel lifted and threw pieces of wood or hacked them apart with quick sword strokes. Rayanne channeled fragments into the air from the center of her own miniature cyclone, lifting and flinging aside wood and stone like a heedless force of nature.

"Ghedlyn!" Sildane and her mother had joined them. The bronze-haired girl, not the prettiest creature Nordel had ever seen, but certainly among the most vital and expressive, hunted through wreckage with the same fervor as the Aes Sedai. The girl's face was streaked with tears. Several other farm hands and house servants also helped turn aside rubble and call out -more than a few bloody from being hit by falling wreckage. Many of those assisting wore severe expressions that implied they understood what ran through Rayanne's mind.

"Ghedlyn!"

If they were going to find her alive, Nordel knew instinctively that it had to be soon. He could feel Rayanne getting more and more desperate. The girl could be a burst bladder somewhere leaking out onto the ground in an ichorous mess. Her heart could already be stopped, blown a body-length from her. The minutes of search were taking too long. Far too long.

If they did not find her soon -he did not know if his Aes Sedai would recover.

"Here!" sandy-haired Alibet called, "She's over here!" The boy had apparently found his way out of the hayloft.

Nordel arrived in an instant on the great strides of long, slender legs, while Rayanne veritably flew right behind him. The Aes Sedai's green dress hung ripped and dirt caked and the smudges on her face showed the magnitude of her exertion.

Alibet had lifted a fence plank to expose a bloody rag. She hardly resembled anything human. Her long hair looked burgundy in slick blood and her usual white dress had been tattered and stained dark red. She lay in a heap of bloody mud and grass. At first glance, Nordel thought he might have overlooked her with her legs and arms twisted like those of a broken toy.

"Does she live, does she live?!" Rayanne pushed them fiercely out of her way to reach the mess that might be a little girl. A crowd of farm hands had already collected around them. Few people tolerated the girl, but none hated her.

Rayanne smoothed aside bloodied hair to reveal a scratched up face. The girl's eyes were closed and one swollen. Her mouth lulled open and oozed blood. Nordel could see that she breathed in quick, bubbling gasps.

"Ghedlyn!" Sildane was sobbing now. She held onto her mother with white fingers and buried her face in her mother's dress.

"She lives! Give me space!" Rayanne Sedai was now fully a sister of the Yellow, her mind suddenly cool and calm upon entering a realm she understood. Nordel knew she was not the most powerful healer, but, as an average Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah, her ability was not a bit lacking.

The pauses between the little girl's audible gasps were growing longer.


	16. Book 2: Chapter 7

Praying fervently to the creator with all her heart, Rayanne called into herself her full strength with the one power. It seemed so inadequate next to the bloody ruin lying at her knees. 

She pushed aside questions about how this had all taken place. She pushed aside doubt and uncertainty. Despite her hands, despite her heart and desire, another girl not too much older than this one became cold even at her efforts. Rayanne pushed it aside. This one's mind does not want to leave this world, she told herself, Ghedlyn does not want to die!

Weaving rapidly with Water, Wind and Spirit, she Delved into the broken body. The injuries were deep. Rayanne forced herself to search out every detail of harm, every impaled shard of wood, every smashed bone, every foreign grain of dirt, every bruise. The beautiful little girl who never smiled looked as if she had been caught in a wagon wheel after fleeing a sword fight with a warder.

What had done such damage? She did not want to think about it. She already knew the truth.

"She lives," Rayanne exclaimed distantly to the crowd surrounding the two of them.

When people tried to press closer, Nordel bellowed, "Back! Give her space!"

The small heart was still beating.

Rayanne threw everything she had into the next weave. Healing sprang into existence and sank like a cast fishing net into the ocean of Ghedlyn's body. Rayanne struggled deftly to reverse what might not be possible to reverse. The Aes Sedai placed her hands flat on the child and reached deeper and deeper into the ruin, weaving for all she was worth. If that heart stopped beating. If the girl never got to read the book Allerria brought. If she ceased to breathe, not even eleven years old. If she bled out here and never scratched another strange symbol into the ground. If she never went back to the White Tower. If average Aes Sedai never came to know she had even existed. The weave coursed like a river rapid through the child's body, utterly emptying Rayanne.

The girl's eyes flew wide open and her limbs jerked and twitched sharply. An inhaled scream ripped itself from Ghedlyn's mouth. Gashes and gapes sealed themselves. Fragments of embedded wood expelled themselves from her body. Shattered bones knitted. Deep injuries, critical injuries, reworked themselves and came closed. The heart continued to beat.

Abruptly, Rayanne pulled away and fell onto her back. Ghedlyn lay still. The girl continued to bleed, but she also continued to breathe and more smoothly now.

Nordel lifted his Aes Sedai to sitting position. Rayanne was shaking. She had not reached so deeply before into such a grievous injury. "She's too small," she said, panting, "she is alive, but she is too small. If I go further, the demands of her body to replenish itself will kill her as surely as the wounds would have."

"How long does she have?" Sildane's mother, Menae, asked. She sounded shaky and she rubbed her daughter's back.

"She lives," Rayanne tried unsuccessfully to pull her feet under herself so that she could stand. Nordel loaned his strength to help her up, "We need to move her into the manor. Are there compresses and bandages?"

"Of course, Aes Sedai," one of the house women said.

"Get them quickly," Rayanne sent the woman scurrying, "I sealed what injuries will kill her immediately, but she might still bleed to death or grow infected if exposed to the elements too long. She must be cleaned. She must be bound... oh..." Rayanne almost fell when she tried to take her first step. Nordel caught her arm. He was as steady as a cliff of rock.

"Can she be moved?" someone asked.

Rayanne put her hand to her temple. If only the world would stop spinning around. "Quickly, quickly. She can be moved. She needs a bed."

"I have her," mighty Tempedan bore Ghedlyn up in his burly arms, smearing blood down the front of his blacksmith's apron.

"I'll handle cleaning her and binding her, Aes Sedai. I have some experience." Menae said, touching Rayanne's elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I don't matter," Rayanne waved her away.

"Rayanne Sedai also needs to rest," Nordel told Menae while supporting his tottering Aes Sedai.

"I said I don't matter!" Rayanne insisted sharply, "Ghedlyn needs water and honey, now. If she goes unfed, more Healing will kill her. She needs the Healing, but I cannot do it until she has some food in her."

"A funnel in her gullet will have to do," Menae said, gesturing to another of the house women. They were already nearly at the manor house and Rayanne did not recall placing one foot ahead of the other.

"You need sleep, Aes Sedai," Nordel told her as he helped her through the door.

"I need to Heal Ghedlyn. There will be other injuries in some of the farm hands. I need to Heal..." Rayanne tried to brush him off, but found herself too weak.

Nordel shook his head, "Without some rest, Healing is beyond you. Menae, see to Ghedlyn, I'll manage Rayanne. Klaudia," he addressed another of the house women, "we must find if anyone else needs help with injuries from the explosion."

"I will," exclaimed Klaudia.

"As you say," Menae, with Sildane still clinging to her skirts in tears, followed Tempedan, who hefted the feather weight of the bloody girl.

"You must rest and then eat," Nordel said to Rayanne, "by the time you're ready to Heal her, maybe Menae will have fed her enough to allow her to survive it."

"What if she doesn't make it?" Rayanne asked. "What if she passes while I'm not with her?"

"This one will survive," Nordel whispered in her ear, "have some faith."


	17. Book 2: Chapter 8

"Her breathing is even," Menae reported. She had tied back her bronze hair, much the same color as her daughter's, with a rose patterned kerchief, "she is as comfortable as we can make her. The injuries look better already. She has not stirred since that Healing in the dooryard." 

Nordel closed the door to Rayanne Sedai's room behind him as he entered the hall, "This one rests too, finally."

One of the house women bustled along lighting oil lanterns in the hallway. Nordel pressed out of her way. She sparred Nordel and Menae a sympathetic gaze as she passed.

"Klaudia says there were other injuries and we've seen to some of them as best we can, but the help of an Aes Sedai will be best. Field hands have the dooryard partly cleaned," Menae continued. "They will be working on repairs to the roofs tomorrow; it's too dark tonight already to do much. A lot of the help have retired to their chambers. The fact that oak tree vanished into a cloud of debris across the yard has everyone rattled. That made for a quiet night in the kitchen, at least. Sildane is watching Ghedlyn right now."

"I had to practically tie Rayanne down to get her to rest," Nordel admitted.

"How long until she can channel again?" Menae asked.

Nordel shook his head. He mopped his shaven scalp with a callused hand, "Difficult to say. I have never seen her push herself so far before. Her channeling is not so strong, but she is competent at Healing. Rayanne is best with illnesses of the mind, but she is not the most powerful Aes Sedai at channeling."

Menae had taken on a frightened expression. She scrubbed her hands together, "Will she be able to finish helping Ghedlyn at least?"

"Huh," Nordel chuckled, "I think she would kill herself trying. But, she will not be at full strength again for a day or two."

"Will it be a day before she can finish the job?" Menae asked, the tension evident in her voice.

"No," Nordel said, "but it has to be a few hours yet. I got her to keep down a full meal and then forced her to bed. She would sleep until tomorrow, but I agreed to wake her in a few hours to see if she was ready to try."

"Ghedlyn is still bleeding heavily," Menae said. "We got a few thimbles of honey and some water into her. The bandaging helps, but she won't live until morning."

"Then it's a race," Nordel sighed, "to see if Rayanne is ready to finish the job before Ghedlyn bleeds to death. We have to hope then that the honey gave Ghedlyn enough reserves to survive a second Healing."

"What happens when Dursh comes back?" Menae asked softly.

Nordel shook his head, "He will be back in a day or two. I would be heart broken to have to tell him his daughter bled to death."

Menae relaxed back against the wall of the corridor, her eyes fixed on the newly lit oil lantern. "What happened? Sildane keeps asking me what happened. House help keep asking what it was. Everyone is curious. Nobody doubts it had something to do with Ghedlyn..."

Nordel shook his head. "It is difficult to say. I have a feeling that the only one who knows for sure is sleeping behind this door."

After Menae and Nordel finished speaking, the warder walked the manor house. On the second floor, he found a few places where nearly intact tree branches had crashed through the shingled roof and lodged squarely among the rafters. Someone already cleaned up the glass shards from a broken window by the main stairway and boarded over the hole. Purchase of a replacement window would be Dursh Prim's job when he returned from his trading.

Nordel spoke to the cooks in the kitchen. He chatted in the entry with a pair of exhausted field hands. The queasy-making sensation in the back of his mind meant Rayanne was sleeping poorly, but sleeping at least. He smiled even so, smiled for everyone who needed to see it. Tempedan sat quietly with Alibet and his other two apprentices in the reading room, so Nordel spoke with them. How the incident had exhausted everyone on the farm amazed him, but it also amazed him that everyone was concerned about Ghedlyn, even though many of them regularly ostracized her for her bizarre personality.

Once he finished his circuit, visiting with everyone around the farm fold, he located his small harp where he had left it in the reading room the night before and wandered out into the dooryard.

Walking in a circle in the dooryard, stepping carefully over the remaining debris, he set the harp to his shoulder and began to play. The smoke from the exploding tree had long since cleared. Stars on the black curtain of night and a waning half-moon winked down at him. The breeze was clean and carried a hint of the Caralain grasslands.

Without adding his voice to that of the lonely harp, he allowed his fingers to grace the strings. He knew how to tune a harp to make it sing like a flock of birds circling over a babbling brook. Watching the stars blinking in the dark, he played for them. He listened to the tone of the harp echoing between the manor house and lesser buildings. Rather than playing any particular melody, the warder played where his fingers led. He played rain pattering on a roof. He played a marionette's dance, just a small jig. He played pieces of a dirge from a forgotten war and a military march. He played a bardic tune that hinted at love.

He lost himself in the music and tried to fight the one enemy that could truly harm a sister of the Yellow. He let his harmony enfold the abnormally quiet buildings of the farm. He did his very best to battle the decline in morale that would prevent his Aes Sedai from winning her victory. While Rayanne slept fitfully, Nordel drew upon his wolfish warder endurance and began his fight. He would fight the entire night if necessary.

Nordel knew his playing would filter through the walls and cracks. He knew his tune would work its way into hearts of all his comrades. He willed his playing to massage away some of the doubts.

Perhaps even the unconscious Ghedlyn would absorb his deft notes and cease her gradual slide before Rayanne could recover enough to fully save her.


	18. Book 2: Chapter 9

The brutal-looking, gangly warder caught his graceful Aes Sedai as she fell. She dropped like a tree undermined at the base.

Sildane thought Rayanne Sedai was the most elegant and beautiful woman she had ever seen. The Aes Sedai's gem-blue eyes shined with a blazing internal light when she looked at you. Carrying her nose upturned and her golden-blond braid thrown over one shoulder, she stood as if she were the only woman truly alive in the entire world and she wore the most gorgeously trimmed dresses. Sildane imagined Rayanne Sedai must have been royalty before she became Aes Sedai. Sildane was not unfamiliar with ageless faces, living as the daughter of a serving woman on a Tower farm, but Rayanne was the closest she had ever been to an Aes Sedai and by far the most impressive.

When she fell off her feet at the side Ghedlyn's bed, Sildane had never seen the leonine woman so weak. After she finished the Healing weave, she could not even support her own weight.

She hung bonelessly in Nordel's arms and could barely lift her head. Rayanne's eyes were rolling back in their sockets as she spoke. "That is the most I can do," she breathed. "The rest is up to her."

Nordel and several of the adults helped the Aes Sedai leave. Sagging like a limp rag in her warder's arms, she dragged her feet on the floor with infantile coordination. From the hallway, Rayanne Sedai glanced weakly over her shoulder and Sildane thought she saw redness in the woman's eyes before the door closed between them.

The room had emptied in a handful heartbeats with little more than whispered comments.

Sildane sat against the wall in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chest. Alibet sat next to her, his head nodding back and his mouth hanging open. He snoozed lightly and snored like a saw blade on wood.

Sildane's mother loomed over them, "The two of you should have been in bed a long time ago."

"Is Ghedlyn going to be okay?" Sildane asked. Though her eyelids felt slung with metal weights, she had not allowed herself to surrender to sleep.

Her mother glanced at the girl lying on the bed surrounded by bloody bandage dressings and sheets. She nodded, "I think even the scars may be gone now. With some care, Rayanne Sedai thinks she will live. But, she might sleep for a long long time."

"But she is going to live?" Sildane demanded.

"As long as she's breathing and her heart remains beating, there will be another day," her mother patted her head. She stooped down and pinched Alibet on the ear; he snorted awake. "Ghedlyn might even be touched if she knew you were so concerned about her. Now, I want you both out of here."

Alibet teetering after her, Sildane found herself deposited in the hall.

Both children stood stupidly for a long time in the quiet. A floor board creaked and a door closed.

"I wonder," Alibet yawned, "If Rayanne Sedai is going to heal anybody but turtle girl."

Sildane glared at him, "You really are insensitive."

"Lots of people got hit by falling stuff," Alibet responded. "Ghedlyn isn't the only person who got hurt."

"Are you jealous of her? She almost died," Sildane exclaimed coldly, crossed her arms and stormed away in a huff.

Alibet followed after her, but didn't say anything for a long while. They reached the stairs and were headed down before he opened his mouth again, "I wonder if she would've got hurt if I had apologized to her..."

Sildane stopped on the stairs, turning to look back at the boy standing above her, "Apologized for what?"

"That stupid toad," Alibet had stopped and turned to rest his hands on the banister.

Sildane frowned at him, "You mean a couple days ago? The toad in the bucket?"

Alibet nodded, "Master Tempedan's been punishing me since then."

"Since then?" Sildane squealed in surprise, "it's been four days."

"He made me recast a bunch of horse shoes," the boy responded, "my arms haven't stopped hurting."

"You got punished for that?" Sildane shook her head in amazement, "You know she actually found something entertaining with that bucket-toad thing."

"She what?!" Alibet startled fully awake, "she enjoyed it?!"

"Not the first part when you taunted her," Sildane told him, "but after Master Tempedan took you away, she got really interested in the toad being in the bucket. She even talked to me!" she added this last smugly.

"That little witch!" Alibet leaned over the railing and allowed his arms to dangle.

Sildane actually laughed at him and flipped her bronze hair, "Now there's a punishment. You got the bad end of the deal." She turned and started down the stairs again, feeling somehow flouncy and fulfilled and intent on following her mother's advice to go to bed.

Alibet said something else that stopped her, "What do you supposed she writes?"

"Huh?" Sildane turned back to him again.

"I mean on the ground," Alibet looked at her, "What do you suppose she writes on the ground?"

"Rayanne Sedai said it was some kind of numbers," Sildane dutifully informed him.

"The Master makes me practice my numbers every day so that I can do measures to make alloy. I've never seen any numbers in what turtle girl writes," Alibet tapped the railing with his fingers. "What do you think caused the tree to explode? I've seen wood explode in Master Tempedan's furnace, and that's what that tree did."

"It had to have been the One Power," Sildane replied, "Why else would Rayanne be looking after her all the time? She's constantly telling Ghedlyn stuff about the One Power and Channeling. I think she wants Ghedlyn to Channel."

"Do you think those things she writes actually are hexes?" Alibet looked at her sideways.

"I don't know," Sildane admitted, "but if an Aes Sedai is involved, maybe it's true."

"I want to know why turtle girl's so important that Rayanne Sedai would make herself so tired trying to save her and not try to Heal anyone else." Alibet said, "Everybody else is important too."

Sildane gave a shrug and turned down the stairs, "She's an Aes Sedai; Mama told me there's no way we normal folk can understand their reasons."


	19. Book 2: Chapter 10

Once Rayanne awakened the next day, Nordel brought her food while she still lay in bed. Menae had seen to it that a full meal would be standing ready when the Aes Sedai finally needed it.

Sacks under her simmering blue eyes, Rayanne attacked the meal with gusto. She polished off two full courses without saying anything. Then, she pushed aside her silverware and lay back against the pillow, her braid a disheveled golden halo around her head. "What do I do?" she asked the warder plaintively, "I'm failing, Nordel. What do I do?"

Nordel closed his eyes thoughtfully. He had felt this brewing in Rayanne since Allerria Sedai left. "It would be helpful, Aes Sedai, if I knew exactly what is happening."

"I should have forced her," Rayanne rebuked herself, "I should have locked her in a room and forced her."

"You mean forced Ghedlyn to channel?"

Rayanne nodded, "She ignores everything that doesn't interest her, and now this. I have no idea what exactly she did, but she channeled."

"Farm hands have been talking," Nordel said, "The consensus is that she either channeled, or one of her 'hexes' exploded on her."

The 'hex' remark brought a momentary smile to Rayanne's face, which was quickly replaced by the frown again. "Farm hands are observant, even if they are ignorant. I have no idea what exactly she did, but I felt someone channeling before that explosion. She is the only other person on this farm who could have been channeling. And she has no skill at it. Maybe how she embraces the source is finally stable, but she has no idea what it means to weave. After four and a half years of toeing the line, something like this was bound to happen."

"You were here," Nordel lifted the tray off Rayanne's lap and set it on the nightstand, "you felt it happen."

"If I had gotten to her a minute later, she would have died," the golden blonde Aes Sedai said.

With gentle hands, Nordel lifted Rayanne away from the pillow and hugged her to him, "This one is still alive, Ray. You got there before she died this time."

"But what if I'm late the next time?" Rayanne asked, sniffing. She put her cheek against his shoulder. "She needs a hundred Aes Sedai around her watching her like hawks, keeping her from doing wrong--she should be in the Tower--but she only had me. What if I'm not there for her?"

The warder breathed out. Now he fully understood. "This is not just about Ghedlyn getting hurt is it?" Nordel asked, rubbing her back in the embrace, "Will it help to tell me the rest?"

Rayanne shrugged uncertainly. Reciting monotonously with a soft voice, she told him in detail what Allerria had said. She told him about the new book and about the Amyrlin's revelation and instructions. Her voice wavered very near to crying when she finally finished, "So she won't be returning to the Tower. And I have just a year. What if I can't get her to actually study channeling? What if she doesn't even realize that she channeled this time? How do I teach her?"

Nordel's eyebrows knitted. While the information did not surprise him, it concerned him deeply, "You would take this as against the oaths, wouldn't you?"

"That's why I have been unable to give her the book," Rayanne said carefully, "Allerria, Romanda and the Amyrlin feel that, because it is Ghedlyn, not us, the oath is untouched. But I can't see it that way. How is this any different?"

Nordel chuckled, "I guess it all comes down to point of view. Sometimes, I fear you might be too straight-forward to survive as an Aes Sedai. To the letter, maybe it's not directly against the oath."

"All the good that does me," Rayanne sighed, hugging him harder.

"Maybe," Nordel began thoughtfully, "if you really want the girl to make it as an Aes Sedai, you should think about arming her instead of protecting her."

"Even if she fails to become a full Aes Sedai, they mean for her to take oaths," Rayanne said. "She is uncommon. She is truly dangerous."

"What can be done?" Nordel asked, "she is still alive now. There was no pitchfork this time. She is still here and living. If nothing else, in her own strange way, she is fully happy to be alive. If there is another time, you and I will be there to deal with it then."

Rayanne sniffed. "And if I'm too late next time? Other people on the farm were hurt this time. She is only going to get more powerful."

"Eat up, rest a bit more," Nordel instructed her, disengaging from the hug, "I'll help you make rounds so that you can Heal the others."

Laying back in bed, Rayanne shook her head. Her eyes were red and her forehead puckered with concern, "I wish I knew what she did when she channeled. I wish I knew why it had to happen now."

"Four and a half years," Nordel put the tray of food back onto her lap, "you said it yourself; it was bound to happen eventually."

"What is her father going to say when he gets back?"

Nordel patted Rayanne on the head, "My lady, you are an Aes Sedai; you will tell him how things are going to go."


	20. Book 2: Chapter 11

Sildane was outside when Dursh Prim returned from his trading expedition. The black-haired Domani man carried his rucksack over one shoulder and several extra parcels beneath an arm. His finely embroidered cloak bore a splatter of travel stains and he did not wear the jewel stud that usually decorated his ear. He walked reliable Pidge to the barn, then crossed the dooryard toward the manor house. Sildane saw his eyes gravitate to the great vacancy where the huge oak tree had once cast its formidable shade. He could hardly miss the two men banging with mallets to wedge shingles back into the manor house roof.

Without a greeting, he asked Sildane, "Where's Ghedlyn?" His voice was soft and trembling.

He knew, Sildane realized. He somehow knew.

When Sildane did not immediately answer, Tradesman Prim dropped his parcels and rucksack and ran for the house, his cloak flying up in his wake. Even after the door slammed behind him, Sildane could hear his footfalls crashing across wooden floors and on stairs.

"He is not happy," Alibet observed coolly.

"I could've told you that," Sildane answered. "Come on, I'm going to keep looking."

Tree wreckage and broken wood from damage to the manor itself or the smaller outlying buildings all sat in a mountainous pile in the pasture just south of the dooryard, right where the field hands heaped it during the morning. Stepping delicately over sharp edges, Sildane and Alibet scoured through the junk by dislodging branches or turning beams. On open ground off to the side, Sildane had used Ghedlyn's bucket to hold down the small stack of crinkled paper to which she and Alibet steadily added. The pile trapped beneath the bucket did not begin to account for an entire book, but it had grown.

Pushing a straggle of frizzy bronze hair out of her face, Sildane redoubled her efforts. She grunted and shifted a fractured tree branch sideways so that she could get beneath it. She had chased a handful of pages out across the fields already this morning, and was reduced now to finding what remained amid the wreckage.

"Ouch!" she cried, stickers from the branch biting into her fingers. Droplets of blood forced her to stop digging through debris long enough to excise the splinter.

"Another splinter?" Alibet asked, shifting a panel that probably originated from the house.

"Mmm," Sildane bit her lip while she teased the splinter of wood out.

Alibet shook his head, "You will get lots of those if you keep working bare-handed. Here, like this," He held up his hands and demonstrated how he pulled his sleeves to cover and protect his palms. "I do this when the Master's punishing me and won't let me use leather gloves to shovel coal."

"Oh," Sildane adjusted her sleeves. It was clever, she had to admit, but she really did not feel like talking.

They worked in somber silence.

Few people who lived on the farm were very talkative today; many were tired from the long night before, or still brooding about the strange circumstances surrounding Ghedlyn's near fatal injury. Rayanne had gone about Healing some of the other injured farm hands that morning, but Sildane could tell that her powers were not unlimited. People accepted her help without complaint, but a few graced her with uncomfortable glances. The Aes Sedai looked exhausted, even hollow.

Sildane did not know exactly why Alibet decided to help her in her self-imposed quest. He simply came and joined her. Together, they were excavating pages that had once been Ghedlyn's favorite book. With the leather cover still missing, all that remained were a few torn shreds. After the explosion, most of the book had been scattered by winds during the night. Sildane remembered seeing a few fluttering sheets in the late afternoon sun just after the explosion and regretted that nobody had thought to pick the book up then.

Using Alibet's sleeve technique to protect her hands, Sildane continued rooting through the pile of wood and junk.

Both children startled when shouting rose from the manor. The elevated voices cut with painful clarity through the abnormal quiet of the farm. Sildane could not understand what was being said, but she could tell it was a man and woman.

"I wonder how angry you have to be to start shouting at an Aes Sedai?" Alibet said aloud.

"You think it's Ghedlyn's Pop and Rayanne Sedai?"

The boy shrugged, "Who else could possibly have a reason to fight?"

"I don't know," Sildane admitted. "I thought Rayanne said Ghedlyn would live."

"I think I would be really angry," Alibet said.

"Even to be angry at an Aes Sedai?" Sildane asked.

"Aes Sedai only help when it serves their purposes, Master Tempedan always says," Alibet told her, "Stand the truth on end like a top and still never tell a lie."

"You really are hateful," Sildane pulled another sheet of paper from where it was lodged under a tree branch.

"Maybe you should go join them."

"Maybe someday I will," Sildane exclaimed to him with a haughty sniff.

They shifted and turned through wreckage in silence. At one point, Alibet jumped to catch a sheet of paper that broke free on the breeze from where he had been digging. Sildane found several sheets in a wadded bundle, discolored and stained brownish by mud--or blood.

The shouting from the manor house went on and on in horrible epic proportion. Some field hands and house women trickled out the front door, their heads down and wearing chastened expressions on their faces. Burly Master Tempedan walked across the dooryard at one point and watched Sildane and Alibet with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. He nodded and glanced back at the house, then disappeared into his smithy.

"Oh," Alibet exclaimed suddenly. He stooped down and came up holding the leather cover of Ghedlyn's book. With the spine split almost its entire length, the front and back covers were attached by barely a single thread. Several pages flittered against one cover.

The shouting ended with an abrupt, ringing silence. Sildane and Alibet looked at each other, then at the house.

While she shifted another broken tree branch, Sildane wondered what exactly had been said. Tradesman Prim never had been particularly comfortable around Rayanne Sedai. Even though he was obviously dedicated to his daughter, he sought time away from the farm on a gradually more frequent basis. Sildane thought he was a nice man, but knew the entire situation surrounding his daughter put great stess on him. His worry was aging him. Sildane had seen Ghedlyn hugging Rayanne more frequently than her father and wondered if this didn't hurt Tradesman Prim as much, if not more than his daughter's actual infirmity.

"Sildane, we must speak."

Sildane startled and dropped the timber she had been struggling to lift. She had been so lost in thought that she had not noticed Rayanne Sedai approaching. "Aes Sedai!" she scrabbled out of the pile of debris, trying to dust her hands on her dress and make herself more presentable, "I'm sorry Aes Sedai, I didn't mean... I was just..."

Alibet gave a graphic and irreverant snort from the opposite side of the pile. Sildane could swear she had heard him spit on the ground. She would remember that and given him a stiff kick to the butt later.

Her warm yellow shawl thrown carelessly over her shoulders, Rayanne looked as if she were dragging a great weight. Her neck bent and her brilliant blue eyes seemed sunken and dull. "Child, will you walk with me."

"Of course Aes Sedai," Sildane gave a slight curtsy, "Is there any chore you would have me do? Should I go and help keep watch on Ghedlyn? Should I go and bring more water from the well?"

With a weathered chuckle, almost paper-thin, Rayanne shook her head, "No, no child. Unfortunately, I have a significantly more difficult task for you."

"What is it?" Sildane asked, clasping her hands in front of her and blinking her eyes as she moved to keep up with the walking Aes Sedai.

"I am in great need of help," Rayanne admitted. With a quick look to see if Alibet were listening to them, she lowered her voice, "I am running out of time and I am running out of luck. You might be the only person on this farm who is able to lend the assistance I need."

"Of course," Sildane said, "anything."

"Do not be so quick to agree," Rayanne Sedai cautioned her, "at this moment, you can make a choice that might change your entire life. And not necessarily in a way that will make you happy."

"I don't think I understand," Sildane replied.

"Of course not," Rayanne mumbled to herself, "Of course not. Women who are able to channel can sense the ability in others. I believe you have the ability to learn."

"I-I can..." Sildane stammered.

"I have no idea how strong it is in you, nor have I ever had the talent to gauge strength without a woman actually embracing _saidar_," Rayanne Sedai told her. "But it is in you."

Sildane just looked at the woman. An Aes Sedai telling her she might be able to channel was like someone telling her the moon was detached from the heavens and actually sitting on the ground at her feet, ready for a kick.

"You are still so young," Rayanne Sedai continued, "there are a few novices who are barely older than you, but you might be old enough to begin learning. It would be a stretch, but I'm running out of options."

"Aes Sedai, forgive me," Sildane bowed her head, "but what are you asking me?"

"Did you ever wonder why you felt such an affinity toward Ghedlyn?" the exhausted, golden haired Aes Sedai asked.

"Well, I like her," was all Sildane could summon up.

"Women who have the ability will sometimes congregate," Rayanne said. "Ghedlyn has an incredible capacity to channel. If she can be taught, she will be very powerful. But, as you have seen, she is also not like other girls or women. One reason you like Ghedlyn is because you also can learn."

"You want me to learn to channel," Sildane said, her head spinning, "because you want me to help you with Ghedlyn?" She could scarely believe.

"I have a year to get Ghedlyn channeling--really, truly channeling. And, I need every bit of help I can find along the way," Rayanne said. "What you must consider is this: if you are willing to aid me in this manner, you will have to go to the White Tower as a novice someday. That will be a difficult path and you might eventually become an Aes Sedai if the ability is in you. If you choose not to learn, you may never touch _saidar_ on your own and you may lead a perfectly normal, happy life. If you choose to learn, your life will be forever changed. If you learn from me, you must understand that I will do my best to teach you what I can, but you will have to go eventually. There is great danger in learning to channel... horrible risk to yourself..."

This queenly woman, this regal paragon kept speaking about something or other, but Sildane's mind was swimming. She had not heard another word beyond Rayanne Sedai telling her she might be able to learn. The daughter of a maid and seamstress, without a father to speak of, who expected to spend her life tending children for some man she had not yet met had just been told she could choose to wear the cloak and jewels of a princess or queen. "Teach me," Sildane said immediately, "teach me!"

"Think about it for a day," Rayanne told her, "speak to your mother. Then make your decision."

"I want this," the twelve year old girl replied, "please teach me!"


	21. Book 2: Chapter 12

Day darkened and deadened and fell until it became night. House women went about changing Ghedlyn's sheets and feeding her drips of honey and water. She remained alive, though in deep sleep and not responsive. Dursh paced. Eventually, night bled out into morning, though people came and went. Dursh, bleary and haggard, sat in the chair beside his daughter's bed, holding her hand, touching her hair. Though someone drew the curtains to let in the sun, and blew out the oil lantern by the door, it became afternoon again before he even realized it. 

Menae and Sildane both came in and out frequently during the day. Sildane brought freshly picked flowers in a vase of Sea Folk porcelain. Many of the younger children would peak often through the door, as if aware that they themselves could one day end up in a similar position and frightened that Ghedlyn's survival might reflect their own. Aside for Sildane, no children wanted to be in Ghedlyn's presence for long. Nordel the warder frequently sat with Dursh, softly playing his harp and humming. Nordel never pushed Dursh into conversation. Menae brought Dursh food heaped on a silver tray. Dursh ate thoughtlessly and put the tray aside, not making a move to thank the woman. Other house women came and went. Burly Tempedan looked in with his youngest apprentice, the shifty-eyed Alibet. Tempedan tried to speak to Dursh, but gave up when Dursh gave him a rheumy glance. The blacksmith retreated dejectedly, but not without some understanding. Alibet stood over Ghedlyn, hands in pockets and mouth an inscrutable line.

Rayanne made no appearance. Dursh thought he felt her presence nearby on several occasions, though she did not dare crack the door. He recognized the Aes Sedai's perfumed scent. It was a sort of magnet of spite, the sense that the Aes Sedai might materialize at any second and drag his daughter further out of reality.

Ghedlyn, eyes closed and breathing slowly, was a young twin of her mother, Jophina. Dursh did not even realize when his girl made the change, silky black hair becoming the cascading midnight waterfall that was her mother's hair. The rosebud of a mouth and archly serious eyebrows. He could swear he was looking at the spitting image of Jo, alive and whole, at the cusp of becoming the woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago. In a few years, she would be her mother reborn, the very flower her mother had been.

And she would never be her mother. She would never learn to beguile a man. She would never gain skill at driving a bargain. When her voice became the sultry voice of her mother, she would never use it to twist a poor merchant into a knot. When her dark, almond eyes became those of the woman whose face she wore, she would never give that gaze to set boys on fire. Ghedlyn would never fill the slippers and veils her mother had worn.

Dursh was thankful the Aes Sedai had stayed away.

Sitting in the ladderback chair holding his daughter's calloused hand, he could feel his own years slipping out from under him. This was not the woman he had married; just a shadow, an image left to him, a reminder whispered in his ear and then put to lie. He loved Ghedlyn and hated her. And he hated himself for loving her and not wanting to. There was nothing he could do. Would it have made any difference if he had been around when the accident happened? He felt guilty. Was it Ghedlyn's power that had so nearly stolen her from life, or had it been the Aes Sedai's influence and tampering? Though he had not told anybody on the farm, there had been an opportunity for him to marry again in a nearby village. If Ghedlyn had died, Dursh could have slipped off and started anew, instead of being trapped here waiting for a day that would not come. He knew that his daughter would never be all the things he might have hoped she could become.

He wished he could take Ghedlyn away from all this, and had told the Aes Sedai so in as many violent and profane words as his mind could possibly dredge. But, as Rayanne Sedai argued back, Ghedlyn would probably die for it. Would taking Ghedlyn away be for her, or for him? The accident had so nearly killed Ghedlyn that, if the Aes Sedai had not been around, Dursh would likely be standing on his daughter's grave this instant rather than at her bedside. But, would it have been so bad praying at her tomb instead of watching her locked in some inescapable half-existence, trapped behind something that he did not understand and could not define? In the end, his anger had been impotent and he knew that. He felt so guilty at the thought of freedom lost.

Menae startled him awake. "Dursh?" the portly woman with the handsome, but not beautiful face with frizzled bronze hair tied up in a kerchief stood over him tugging at his sleeve. "Tradesman?" She wiped a hand on the kitchen apron she always wore and adjusted her skirts.

"Humm, huh?" Dursh had not realized he had been dozing.

"It is midnight," Menae told him, "I want to take you to your room. You're barely eating and everyone is worried about you. Rayanne Sedai is worried..."

"That bloody cow?" Dursh interrupted tiredly, instantly regretting that the words had actually slipped out.

Menae scowled, "Everyone knows you traded words. The whole farm heard it. If I may be so bold, you should remember that no one in this house fought harder for your girl or devoted more care and time."

Dursh bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, "Fine, I know. I spoke out of turn."

"You need sleep," Menae insisted, "Were it Sildane, maybe our places would be reversed. So, I do understand where you speak from."

"Do you?" Dursh mopped his face, half to get some of the sand of sleep from his eyes and half to hide the bitter smile that popped onto his lips.

"More than you might know, but you wouldn't know anything about that having spent the last day holed up in this room." She grabbed his arm with surprisingly strong fingers and dragged him to his feet.

Numbly, Dursh allowed himself to be guided. He chided himself at not noticing that someone had come into Ghedlyn's room and lit the oil lanterns again, or changed the girl's sheets.


	22. Book 2: Chapter 13

A shadowy place, a shadowy form, indistinct and indeterminate, a layer of mist from a rocky river. It hung so steep all around, waded so deep, lapped upon the shore. Where? The foggy clearing up ahead lost in the walls of wet and warm. Dangling branches, turned with leaves made of smoke. No fire to be found. No bakery smell. Where was this place? What place might this be, hung with stars up so far past infinity? 

A dark shadow for hair, hung in silvered sheets and eyes of obsidian glinting gold behind falling snowy dust. Ruby smile with soft words and warm hands, a place by a stove. "I love you," someone had whispered in a voice made of wind. So soft were the silks and veils and sticky the perfumes. The feathers in the beds tickling when rumpled or fluffed. That hug was so warm. A heart beat on the ear and wind in the hair warm of lung and throat. Where was this place so lost behind the mist and fog and dark?

"Mama?"

Dark hair and slender form, smooth skin of forearm? The touch so warm, so right, so comfortable. Retreating into the night, the flurry of silk walking away, smooth, liquid stride. The mist so thick.

"Mama? Please Mama."

The form thin and flickering like a flame so far out of reach. The smoke became thicker. What had been open sank into a mixture of light and dark, dismal and clouded, but shot through with flashes of bright.

"Mama, don't go. Please. Mama, don't go."

There was only fog. The tapestry expanded and enfolded her.

"Mama?"

She sat up.

Light shined through the open curtains, changing the small, square room bright and white. A tall cabinet stood in one corner and many chairs surrounded the bed. An oil lantern beside the door burned low. She did not know this room.

"Mama?" Ghedlyn pushed long black hair back out of her face, her dark eyes searching. That presence had been here. The sense of it lingered, the touch on her face.

She dragged herself out of the damp white sheets and off the pallet. The shift she wore was not one she recognized. Putting her feet on the floor, she found her body ill-prepared to determine any notions of "upright and standing." Her knees thumped down onto the carpet covered wood as if her muscles did not exist. Ghedlyn placed her hands flat on the rug, breathing hard. She did not understand the tears on her cheeks, nor the weakness in her limbs. Her memories muddled themselves.

She did not know where she was. Weakness, the very force of reality itself, kept her pinned, sitting spraddle-legged on the floor beside the pallet. Her stomach hurt so badly that she could hardly breathe.

"You're awake!" a house woman had just entered the room carrying a change of sheets. She dropped the sheets and stuck her head back out the door, "She's awake. Bring the broth."

"Dursh, your daughter!"

"Tradesman, it's your daughter!"

Too weak to struggle, Ghedlyn found herself lifted bodily and deposited with surprising gentleness back into bed. Before she even knew it, she was surrounded by moving bodies and cloudy, unrecognizable faces. She tried to count how many surrounded her and failed, stunned that she could not distinguish one face from the next. It surprised her even more that she could not form a sequence of numbers by which to count. The lack of cognitive clarity was as foreign to her as the unresponsiveness in her legs. She felt as if her skull were stuffed full of goose-down. Someone hugged her fiercely, smelling familiar, though she could not figure out exactly who. She tried to squeal in protest, but her voice caught on sanding paper in her throat. She felt like she would drown.

Frizzy, bronze-haired Sildane, looking over someone's shoulder, was the first face she recognized. She remembered this person who carried water when she did. Ghedlyn knew Sildane. Her eyes skated back and forth across Sildane's face, not quite meeting the girl's brown gaze. "Ah, ah..." she reached a hand toward the other girl, wanting to plead. She knew Sildane.

"It's too much for her!" Sildane cried, "She's confused!"

"Enough, enough, you're confusing her!" Papa was pushing people out of the room. "Let me to her!"

Papa! She knew Papa. She remembered his black hair, but not his grizzled chin. Without the jewel stud in his ear and dressed in rumpled clothing, he looked like a totally different man. He sat on the bed before her and touched her arm. The lines on his face sank so deep that Ghedlyn compulsively reached out to touch them. Why was Papa crying?

Wobbling as she sat barely upright in bed, she did not protest when Papa hugged her. His odor had never been so welcome, nor his touch and sheer tangibility. He held on for a timeless moment and for that timeless moment, the sound of his breathing was the entire world to her. Upon releasing her, he combed her hair out of her face with his fingers and tucked it back behind her ears. Papa was smiling.

Sildane's mama was there too, carrying a silver tray and a worried expression. Sildane held onto her mother's apron with white fingers, her eyes as wide as saucers fixed on Ghedlyn.

Papa took the tray from Sildane's mama and set it on the sheets before Ghedlyn. When he saw that she was still having problems holding herself up, he rearranged several pillows behind her to help keep her propped. "There, that should do it."

Ghedlyn felt so hungry that her hands would not stop shaking. She felt as if her stomach would eat its way out of her abdomen. With quivering fingers, she struggled to catch the silver spoon lying on the tray next to the steaming bowl. Why wouldn't her hand go straight? The spoon kept slipping from her grasp and clattering on the tray. "Ah!" She knocked the bowl and spilled some of its broth. More tears were running down her face. Why wouldn't anything work? "Pa...?" she bleated in desperation.

"Hold on, be gentle," Papa lifted the spoon. He ladled up some broth and brought it to her lips.

It smelled so good. For once, she did not either know nor care what kind of food this was. She had never smelled anything so delectable in her entire life. She caught hold of her father's thick wrist and sipped the broth from the spoon he held. It tasted like nothing she had ever sampled before. It tasted like sunlight turned into pastry, but in the form of a soup. More! She needed more!

Each spoonful did not seem to come fast enough, though Ghedlyn continued to fail to articulate her grip well enough to expedite the process.

"Careful," Sildane's mama was saying, "she may not even be able to keep that down."

"She's okay," Papa said. "I've never seen anyone so hungry..."

"It's the Healing," Rayanne Sedai loomed just outside the door. Ghedlyn was surprised to have not felt her so close. Why had she not felt Rayanne Sedai? "Living on nothing but honey for several days can keep one alive, but certainly not sustained. May I come in Tradesman?"

Papa spared her a wary, awkward glance. He finally nodded, but did not reply.

Ghedlyn ate happily for what seemed like forever. Nobody noticed the almost smile that flickered across her lips. A more perfect food she could not imagine. If anyone spoke, she did not know or care.


	23. Book 2: Chapter 14

Sildane sat on the end of Ghedlyn's bed. She raked her fingers through her mane of frizzled bronze hair and scrunched her eyes. One particular lock of twisty hair she flipped continuously around a finger or chewed on at the corner of her mouth. "I just don't see, Aes Sedai," she pulled on the lock and frowned.

Rayanne Sedai sat in a ladderback chair midway up Ghedlyn's bed. She perched with her back straight and hands on thighs, smoothing her yellow-trimmed dress. "As I said before," she reached out and removed the hair from between Sildane's teeth, "try it without the chewing. Now, let's do it again..."

"Okay, okay," Sildane dusted her palms aggressively on her dress, trying to remind herself not to play with her fingers.

"Think of it this way," the Aes Sedai reached out and touched the girl on the forehead. "you must clear all the distractions and disturbances from your thinking before you can find the place you need to reach. Your focus is the center of any ability you can hope to develop."

"But, I don't even know what I'm supposed to feel that's different from what I always am."

Rayanne Sedai smiled, her gem-like blue eyes twinkling, "It is what you already are. What you have to feel is something that you just don't know is there. This is about filtering out the excess."

Sildane squeezed her eyelids closed and clasped her hands in her lap. She tried to moderate her breathing, the way Rayanne had taught her earlier that week. She could still barely figure out how she would be able to count to five for the length of an inhalation while focusing on thinking absolutely nothing. Every time she started counting while breathing and simultaneously emptying her mind, she found her hands had worked their way out of her lap and begun pulling at her tangled hair. More than that, the Aes Sedai wanted her to practice exhaustively; after at least four hours a day of trying these sorts of exercises for almost two weeks straight, she found her focus skittering away more and more easily. She did not know how she would ever comprehend the exercise. But, Rayanne Sedai would not let up.

Her eyes flickering open, she glanced toward Ghedlyn.

The other girl lay curled in a ball at the distant end of the bed with the covers pulled up to her neck. Her straight hair fanned out across the pillow in a silken black web. Sildane could not tell whether Ghedlyn had not yet recovered, or if she had simply decided not to recover. She refused to leave the bed. Half the time, when she wasn't either eating or sleeping, she kept the cover pulled over her head and refused to come out for anyone. Sildane brought her the remains of her favorite book, repaired as far as she and Alibet could manage, but it did not persuade the girl to leave hiding. Ghedlyn's onyx eyes continuously scanned the ceiling.

Sildane wondered yet again how Ghedlyn could be performing everything Rayanne talked about every moment of her life.

"Do not think about her," Rayanne snapped her fingers beneath Sildane's nose. "This is how you can learn."

"Aes Sedai," Sildane protested, "I just don't understand how I can help you with Ghedlyn if I am so far behind her."

The Aes Sedai chuckled, "You are making quick progress, believe me."

"We do this all the time," Sildane said, "I don't feel like I'm getting anywhere."

"Allow me to be the judge of that," Rayanne Sedai told her, "Now, let's go back to the breathing."

Sildane bit her lip and forced her eyelids closed. She just did not feel it.

"Listen to the sound of my voice," Rayanne Sedai touched Sildane's forehead again with a finger. The touch lasted the span of an instant, but still caused Sildane to jump. "You are completely alone and hang by yourself in the dark. You breathe in: one, two, three, four, five. You breathe out: one, two, three, four, five. Breathe in..." Sildane strove to keep her breathing with the Aes Sedai's words. "Listen only to my voice."

Sildane inhaled and exhaled. She felt so quivery in her arms and legs. She clenched her fingers in her lap and tried to hold her hands down. Her hair felt so itchy. She wanted to pluck at it.

"You are a flower bud," Rayanne continued, her words hovering an arm's length away, "you are sitting in the sun. Under the sun, you unfold and drink in its rays. You feel the warmth. You feel the sustenance shining down on you from the sky."

She bit her lip. So many things at once; breathe in, breathe out, flower in the sun. Breathe in. Breathe out. She clenched her fingers, tensed her neck.

"Relax," Rayanne Sedai told her, "I think someone could cut gemstones on your teeth."

Sildane gave an exhaustive exhalation, then redoubled her efforts. Breathe in to five. Breathe out to five.

"You are a flower bud," the Aes Sedai repeated, "you unfold in the light of the sun. Your petals drink in the light."

Sildane relaxed somewhat, focusing on the words. Rayanne Sedai's voice was so relaxing, ethereal almost. Sildane began to drift. She breathed automatically, feeling a little heat rising to her ears. So strange. A sunflower turned to follow the sun during the day. A morning glory opened with the dawn and closed when hit by shadows. Lilies contracted upon themselves when light went away. The heat, she could almost feel it.

Ghedlyn gave an alarmed squawk and jumped bodily out of bed. The flying sheet, shed like a lizard losing its tail when caught by a cat, hit Sildane flat in the face. The other girl's feet thumped as she crashed to the floor and thundered with each successive footfall across the room.

Sildane's eyes snapped open in surprise and Rayanne Sedai sprang to her feet. Ghedlyn's black hair streamed up behind her as she made for the door. The Aes Sedai reached the other girl's objective simultaneously. Ghedlyn yanked the door catch down and pulled while Rayanne Sedai slammed the door firmly closed at exactly the same moment.

"No, no, no!" Ghedlyn squealed. Rayanne caught her around the waist and pulled her off her feet even though she kicked. "No!"

"Until you channel, you are not leaving this room! By the Light, stop!" Rayanne shouted at the girl.

Ghedlyn went limp in her arms and began to cry. "No, no, no, please, no, no no."

Sildane had vague recollections of the other girl doing things like this years ago when she first reached the farm, but not for a long time since. Usually, she retreated and hid, but this...

"You were close," the Aes Sedai said over her shoulder to Sildane, "She felt you reaching for it. Did I not tell you you were making progress?"

"I..." Sildane was aghast.

Rayanne Sedai brought Ghedlyn back to the bed and set her down gently. The girl would not meet her gaze, as usual, even when Rayanne wiped Ghedlyn's tears away with bare fingers. "I know that whole... incident... turned your carefully plotted life upside-down, but you are going to get it through your head: no matter how you hide from it, you are going to learn to channel."

Clasping Ghedlyn's shoulder with one hand, Rayanne Sedai made a flipping gesture toward the door with her other hand. Sildane felt a breeze pass through the room, rustling the bedcovers and her frizzled hair. Ghedlyn flinched, squeezed her eyes closed and whimpered. "No leaving unless you channel," Rayanne Sedai told the girl, "even if you run for the door, it will take channeling to get out."

Leaving Ghedlyn sitting on the bed with her head hanging dejectedly, the stately Aes Sedai returned to her ladderback chair. "Now, where were we?" she addressed Sildane, "back to your exercises."

"I..." Sildane paused, her eyes fixed for the moment on Ghedlyn, "why is she doing that? Why won't she get out of bed even?"

Rayanne shook her head, "If I fully understood her, I doubt we would be having this problem. After all these years, I think she finally understands what channeling is, but has a good reason to be afraid of it."

"What could possibly...?" Sildane started to ask. Ghedlyn was rocking in place, her knees drawn to her chest.

"Try not to think about it, you are still some distance from being in a place of risk," Rayanne said to her, a note of sorrow behind her words. With a small sigh, she added, "If you can learn to any extent, you will find that the path to control of _saidar_ is a bumpy one. The woman who draws in too deeply can burn out as surely as a branch in a fire. Even after learning to draw the power, the act of weaving is not something anyone can learn spontaneously, no matter how talented. A weave put together wrongly can cause real harm. And, I think Ghedlyn understands this."

As if in response, Ghedlyn suddenly scrambled across the bed. She did not bolt for the door as before, but grabbed the ruin of her favorite book off the nightstand. She flipped open the cover and tore out the first page.

"Wait! Don't do that! Alibet and I worked so hard to put it back together!" Sildane scrambled across the bed to stop Ghedlyn, but Rayanne reached in to hold her back, "I- I thought you liked that book..."

"Let her be," Rayanne said softly, "we have our own work ahead of us."

"Why...?"

The Aes Sedai patted Sildane on the shoulder, "Let's return to our exercise."

Ghedlyn mumbled steadily under her breath and had taken to folding the half-crinkled sheet over and over again. In her surprisingly agile fingers, the large rectangle had rapidly become a diamond overlaid with triangles.

Rayanne Sedai forced Sildane to continue practicing for hours more. She did not again feel any heat rising to her ears and had trouble blocking Ghedlyn's mumbling out enough to count her breaths. The Aes Sedai went on as if Ghedlyn were not even there.

Ghedlyn removed other pages from the book. She flipped seemingly at random, selected a particular sheet, then tore it carefully free from the bent spine. She folded the sheets with shaking, paper-cut fingers, heedless of blood. The pages merged together in an elaborate scheme that she assembled, then took back apart, then assembled again, as if searching for a particular configuration which she could not quite find. All the while, she murmured a steady stream of barely coherent, nearly whispered words.

Sildane had never seen Ghedlyn act this way.

"I think we have had nearly enough for now," Rayanne Sedai decided hours later, "I want you to take some time to rest, Sildane, we'll start again for a while later this evening."

When the Aes Sedai stood and started for the door, Ghedlyn lunged out of bed and grabbed the hem of her sleeve. "It was that, Aes Sedai, it was that, Aes Sedai, it was that!" In her other hand, she held an ornate construction of folded paper, splotched with bloody fingerprints, that looked not unlike a monumental snowflake.

Rayanne Sedai gave a stunned double-take at the directness of Ghedlyn's advance and her face turned blank. Eyes narrowing, she weighed Ghedlyn evenly, "I did say you weren't leaving this room until you channel. Do you not understand that?"

"Aes Sedai," Ghedlyn persisted, jerking at Rayanne's sleeve and holding out the huge, paper snowflake, "It was, Aes Sedai. Please, it was."

"I do not know what in the world you're trying to give me," Rayanne exclaimed to her. "But I'm not going to yield this time. You will channel."

"Believe me, Aes Sedai," Ghedlyn pleaded, sliding down until her knees sat on the rug. Such a look of hysterical hopelessness softened her face that her onyx black eyes seemed about to melt even as they swung back and forth wildly around the room. A tear trailed from one eye. "Four by four, offset at Pi radian angle, full lattice symmetry, all enfolded. Three degrees of freedom in a complete set. Please believe me."

Doubtfully, Rayanne took the large paper snowflake. She looked from Ghedlyn to the folded paper, then back again.

"Hold this far, no farther," Ghedlyn said, "Air, water, spirit, fire, earth. But, Spirit not spirit, water-water but in symmetry, earth in extra parts, three parts to one. Fire in anti-symmetry and a gap set with air, air, air. Not quite balanced. It was, I thought. Not quite balanced. Please believe me."

Rayanne's pure blue eyes widened fractionally and her face turned stark white. She looked at the paper thing held in her hands as if it were a serpent about to bite her.

Sildane looked from Rayanne to Ghedlyn and to the folded paper.

Rayanne's voice quivered very faintly when she spoke, "You are not to leave this room until you weave globes of light. I know you know how. You channel and I'll let you out. Sildane, please stay with her... I... will be back soon."

"No!" Ghedlyn protested.

There was wind in the room when the Aes Sedai left and a breathy pulse again after.

The two girls were left alone. Sildane could not help but feel the chill.


	24. Book 2: Chapter 15

Dressed in the silken shift she used for sleeping, Rayanne rolled to and fro on the down feathered pallet. She had been awakened again and simply could not recover sleep. With the covers thrown off, it was too hot. She tried the very same breathing exercises she was teaching Sildane and failed to calm her troubled thoughts. She had not slept soundly since before the accident. 

Nordel was gone, of course. She could feel him miles off and could point out the direction. She had sent him away and he took her request seriously. She did not trust anyone half so much with the errand, but she still yearned for his touch this night. She felt so alone.

"Are you certain?" he had asked, "I checked the nearby villages and no Aes Sedai have passed through, save Allerria herself several weeks ago."

"There must be some sign of who," Rayanne remembered saying, tossing her golden braid, "we just have not looked closely enough."

"How can you be so certain?" the warder asked, mopping his shaven crown with steel corded fingers. "I've checked nearly all the villages close and I found no easy sign. No Aes Sedai have passed through. You told me that Allerria said other Aes Sedai would be steered clear of this farm. I am inclined to take her at her word."

Rayanne had shaken her head, "It had to have been someone. It was a ward of some sort. It had to have been Aes Sedai."

"I admit, the paper snowflake she made is lovely," Nordel had exclaimed in his most placating tone, "but I still don't see how you leapt to these conclusions."

"Someone used _saidar_ to set a ward on that tree!" Rayanne had practically shouted, "your eyes can't discern it, but the snowflake Ghedlyn made is an impression of that ward! I have no idea what the ward was meant to do, but the beginnings of the weave can only have come from Aes Sedai teaching."

"And you're saying our little Ghedlyn duplicated a ward of One Power... out of paper?" his scoff lingered with his words, though he wore his crooked, affable smile.

"You can't see it, but it is there," Rayanne responded forcefully, "how she selected the paper, how she folded it together... I cannot say how, but without even channeling, she modeled of the weave distinctly, without question. I had to stare at it for a moment, but it is definitely a model of a weave!"

"I still think you are complicating this far more than you must," had been Nordel's protest, "Could not Ghedlyn have simply channeled at the tree and had it blow up in her face?"

"I have never shown her the pattern of the ward she modeled," Rayanne remembered telling him, "And for her to have randomly stumbled over it, even with her talent, is not possible. It is simply too complicated."

"Then how..."

"Ghedlyn channeled, I am certain of that! But what if the ward was left there for her to find and she channeled into it...? I do not believe she wove it, but I fear her toying with it, trying to figure it out, may have caused it to collapse and explode. Worse, what if it was deliberately set?"

Nordel had been silent at that, "Are you certain you want to follow that reasoning? This is paranoia. We have no real evidence."

"What else do you expect me to do?"

Nordel had sighed at that and shaken his head, "If you want to believe it was some sort of trap intended to kill her, the first person to suspect has to be Allerria. She is the only Aes Sedai who has been anywhere near here."

"Please," Rayanne had bade him, touching his shoulder, touching his cheek, "just go out and look again. We have to be certain."

"I will go out and look. But, if you are correct in this, I won't go so far and leave you undefended. Still, I beg you to think if there are any other answers."

"If Ghedlyn had not made that paper model," Rayanne had told him, "I would still be thinking that tree exploded by accident. The girl can barely communicate, but I'm sure she is speaking to me now. And, I'm positive I understand her meaning! What better way to hide an attempted murder than an accident?"

"Then why are you looking for an Aes Sedai?" Nordel had asked, "The oath not to use the One Power as a premeditated weapon...?"

"Who else could know how to weave this kind of ward?"

"...But breaking the oath!..."

Their exchange had finally trailed off, leaving both Rayanne and Nordel frustrated. Nordel had gone out to search the nearby towns exactly as she asked, looking for signs that some Aes Sedai had passed through. She wanted desperately to forget his insinuation about Allerria.

Rayanne startled. She had not realized she had been nodding back toward sleep. Something tickled the corner of her thoughts. She had almost missed it, malingering in her unhappy reminiscence of the past couple days. Ghedlyn's paper snowflake sat in a brooding shadow on the table across the small room. Beside the snowflake lay the book Rayanne remained unable to give to the little black-haired girl.

The tickle came again. Rayanne's eyes fluttered. Somewhere something... she felt something. Yet more tickling. It tipped the base of her neck and shivered up and down her spine. A breath of cold raised goose flesh on her arms and legs. The tickle whispered in her ear. Then she understood what she was feeling: somewhere in the manor house, someone was channeling!

It dawned on her simultaneously and with a thrill that almost made her vomit that she had not re-barred Ghedlyn's room when she left Ghedlyn and Sildane alone this evening. She had used the power of Air to bar the room each time she had left earlier in the day before that, but forgot this time: it had been both to keep Ghedlyn in and other people out. But not the last time she left! Why had she forgotten. Not that anyone who knew how to channel would have the slightest trouble entering a room barred with Air.

Wearing only her silken shift, Rayanne slipped out of bed. Swaying slightly and light-headed, she stood listening to the quiet house. A beam or floorboard creaked. Could it be possible that someone other than an Aes Sedai on the farm was somehow hiding ability with the power and stalking Ghedlyn? Rayanne knew the only potential channelers to be herself, Ghedlyn and Sildane. She had been around and felt all of the other people living here for the past few years. None of the women or girls who lived on the farm save Sildane possessed the ability. Ghedlyn refused to channel and Sildane was still having problems learning to embrace the source. Rayanne knew that only she herself wielded suitable skill.

The tickle came once more--incontestable channeling. Impossible perhaps, but it came from someone! Throwing a housecoat over her shoulders, Rayanne tiptoed across the room and paused at the door, fingering the latch. Could some woman able to channel have come onto the farm at night? People arrived and departed frequently. Such a scenario might explain why she had never felt anyone weaving the ward which caught Ghedlyn and nearly killed her. Even an Aes Sedai might be caught unaware when asleep.

She pushed the door open with a plaintive creak and shivered at a draft of cold let in from the hallway. With all the house women, their men and children tucked off in bed, the great manor stood a vacant tomb. A single oil lantern remained burning at the far end of the hall. A brindle dog who lay curled in the island of light beneath the lantern yawned and blinked as she eased the door closed and began to creep down the hall. She could hear someone snoring behind one of the locked doors and heard giggling and other soft sounds emanating behind another. A loose plank creaked as she stepped on it.

Half holding her breath, Rayanne readied herself to embrace _saidar_ on the instant, but held off in order to not surprise whoever happened to be channeling. The ability to sense channeling worked as both advantage and disadvantage and she wanted to avoid startling whoever it was. But she needed to move quickly if she were to protect Ghedlyn.

The feeling came from upstairs. Now that she was aware of it, she sensed it fully. The flows were not that strong, but she could feel them going on and on. She had no idea who would possibly be doing what with them at this late hour. Rayanne tiptoed barefoot to the stairs and gazed upward into the dusty gloom. Two other oil lanterns could be seen blazing in second and third floor hallways.

Grasping the carved and polished banister, Rayanne made her way up. She started slowly, but found herself more and more impatient as the seconds slid past. Wood and thin carpets cooled her feet. She narrowly avoided tripping on a small table at the landing where the stairs switched back between floors. The feeling was definitely on the second floor. From the hallway with Ghedlyn's room? She hurried up the last stairs as quietly as she could, with her heart thundering in her ears and her breath coming more quickly than she wanted.

Beyond the trembling glow of the lone oil lantern, casting surfaces a dismal yellow, shadows pooled and obscured. A thin line of light shone from beneath the fourth door on the right: Ghedlyn's room! Two people channeling?

Heart leaping to her throat, Rayanne forgot herself and flew down the hall, bare feet scuffing the carpet and house coat flying up behind her. Laughter, giggling? She grabbed the latch and threw the door open, at the same time filling herself with the warmth of the one power.

Within Ghedlyn's room was another world suffuse with warm light.

Rayanne's jaw dropped.

Two girls sat on the bed, one staring at Rayanne and the other staring the opposite direction. Standing dumbfounded in the doorway, the Aes Sedai felt as if she were floating in the night sky. The space of the small room was completely cluttered with dozens, if not hundreds of small glowing lights that rode the air not unlike gently falling snow. The floating lights were all different colors, all different shapes and sizes.

"Aes Sedai!" Sildane, uncertain whether she would continue smiling with delight or begin gaping in mortification, lost her tenuous grasp on _saidar_ and the one floating light she had been juggling guttered and winked out. "I did it Aes Sedai!"

It took Rayanne a moment to realize that the bronze haired girl had indeed been channeling! It took Rayanne an even longer moment to realize that Ghedlyn was continuing to channel!

The little girl with the silken black hair and onyx eyes stared intently into space and wove furiously. She spun out miniscule threads of fire and air and water, forming a glowing light, which she twisted around into the shape of a ring. She then reproduced a tiny element of the ward she had modeled for Rayanne and managed to tie off the floating weave of light and render it completely self-supporting. "Not right," she muttered to herself and promptly began to channel again. Almost as quickly as Rayanne could draw a breath, Ghedlyn had produced three more varieties of flying light, tied off each and continued on. Rayanne realized that not one of the floating balls appeared the same as any other. On the air currents in the room hovered orbs, rings, squares, cones, cylinders, stars, and every other imaginable shape, in purple, yellow, pink, red, blue, orange, green and a whole rainbow of colors. Ghedlyn had not once repeated the same weave twice. Several lights even incorporated bizarre weaves of earth and spirit, which Rayanne had never seen in such a form before.

"Aren't you happy Rayanne Sedai?!" Sildane giggled excitedly. The frizzy haired girl had managed to recreate her own small contribution to the legion of dancing lights in the form of a single yellow bauble that pulsed and guttered and wobbled, but glowed none-the-less. "We both did it!"

After the fact, Rayanne did not remember whether she had simply stood there in dumbfounded wonderment or uttered some stammering remark. A tear trickled down her face and all the negative thoughts preventing her from sound sleep evaporated. All she remembered later was that she had found herself laughing and weaving balls of light like the greenest novice right up until the sun peaked its fierce face and Sildane's mother came in to find the three of them all played out to exhaustion.


	25. Book 2: Chapter 16

"Come now, stop dawdling," Menae chastened Sildane, pushing her daughter ahead, "staying up all night does that to you."

Sildane could hardly stop yawning. The moment one jaw-stretching yawn escaped her mouth, the next would be originating deep in her chest. "Mu-ther,"she protested, dragging leaden feet. She was just past the height of her mother's shoulder, but the older woman always made Sildane feel like she barely reached her knee. She tripped on a clod of hay and nearly lost hold of the basket she carried.

"See there," her mother pointed as she turned into the tailor's shop, "you'll walk into a wall at this rate and I certainly will not stop you. A good lesson will serve you well..."

Her mother was friendly with the tailor and they chatted long whenever Menae came into the village. Though not large as such shops went, Sildane found herself wandering along the bolts of dyed cloth stacked against the wall while she waited. Her mind drifted.

Leaning back against the stands of cloth with her basket held in both hands, she let her head tip as she tried yet again to reach _saidar_. She had been stretching to find that feeling the whole morning. Breathing so, feeling so and open herself... opening out as if to accept a hug... but the warmth like the afternoon sky in the middle of summer refused to come. It really did make her think of a flower touched by the sun. After the experience the night before, she now knew the feeling and she craved it.

For all the weeks struggling with Rayanne Sedai trying to find the source, two hours with Ghedlyn had changed her.

After dinner the night before, Rayanne Sedai had spent several hours with Sildane in Ghedlyn's room, leading her through more of their practice exercises. The graceful Aes Sedai had been unusually dour, torn between wary glances at Ghedlyn and lingering sighs while Sildane tried to focus.

Finally, she stood, saying, "We will have to pick this up again in the morning."

Ghedlyn had been paying abnormally close attention to the proceedings. She had been sitting forward on the bed, watching both Rayanne and Sildane in a strangely unwavering fashion. Her onyx eyes flashed eerily. She gave a wordless protest when the Aes Sedai departed, moving as if to stop her, though Rayanne did not give a backward glance.

Rayanne Sedai's weariness reflected in the fact that she forgot to channel to bar Ghedlyn's door. She had done that each time she left them through the afternoon and had brought Ghedlyn's dinner in herself. When she left this time, she simply dragged herself out without any dramatics. Ghedlyn had not made any other attempts at flight anyway. Of course, Ghedlyn had not actually left the room in several weeks and did not seem eager now to make another effort.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," Sildane had said to Ghedlyn, making to follow the Aes Sedai.

Ghedlyn had grabbed her sleeve, "No, please, no."

"What, why?" Sildane had replied, surprised once again at Ghedlyn's unusual directness.

Ghedlyn did not look her in the eye, but rather stared straight through her. Fear was written all over her. She reeked of fright. Her mouth worked as if to say something, but she fumbled for half a minute, "Stay... please. Alone is not good, Sildane, please stay."

Sildane had sat back down on the bed, taking the other girl's hand in her own. She had seen Ghedlyn flinch from physical contact with other people, but she held onto Sildane right back this time, as if desperate. "Why are you so worried?" Sildane asked.

"I might die alone," was Ghedlyn's response, again after seconds of stumbling for words. "I don't want to die. It will hurt."

They talked for a long time with many pauses and edgy silences, but Ghedlyn seemed to be trying frantically to hold together some form of human contact. Her words, carefully measured and sometimes assembled strangely, revealed to Sildane an awareness of the world that Sildane had not realized the other girl possessed.

Sildane's mother and Ghedlyn's father both stopped in to check on the girls, both surprised to find Sildane and Ghedlyn engaged in an apparent conversation. Ghedlyn's father had hugged them both. Ghedlyn gave a little squeal when he hugged her, but she held onto his arm to stop him from letting her go. Sildane's mother departed leaving instructions that Sildane should go to bed, which Sildane only half-heartedly intended to follow. Finally, they were alone and the manor had grown quiet.

Sildane would remember the next forever.

"Rayanne Sedai says you embrace the source all the time. I can't even feel it," Sildane had told her, "Rayanne Sedai says I can learn, but I'm not so sure. How do you do it?"

"Do?" Ghedlyn breathed, looking back and forth in confusion. "The source... is. I did not know it was different until Rayanne Sedai said so. So she said." Her voice had a timorous, chiming quality, sing-song almost, carefully modulated and so unsure.

"If I could channel, I would channel all the time!" Sildane told her, "She said she would let you leave the room if you channeled for her. If you can channel, why don't you?"

"I don't channel," Ghedlyn had said conclusively. "I have not ever channeled-- never have I. That is not part of the harmony. The world does not work as such."

"Yeah, and you've never really talked to me before either," Sildane said. "But you're talking to me now. If you can change in that way, maybe a part of the harmony is a change for you to start channeling too."

Ghedlyn had chewed on that for an eternity, sitting and thinking, her eyes rolled back as if she wanted to look into her own skull. She literally chewed on her lip and rocked slowly. Tears escaped her eyes and ran down her smooth olive cheeks. She sniffled.

Sildane touched her forearm in an effort to comfort her.

"It is so hard," Ghedlyn had said with a sniff, "It all seems one way, always, and then it always is changed. I never understand. What is true, what is untrue, I do not ever understand when it is always different."

"Maybe if you just let it be different, it wouldn't hurt so much," Sildane had told her.

Ghedlyn's sheer black eyes, deep as the depths of the midnight sky, came up and locked squarely on Sildane's face for the very first time ever, "Reaching _saidar_ is not difficult. You are close. Close are you. Breathe as Rayanne Sedai tells you. Maybe this can help." Hands shaking, Ghedlyn touched either side of Sildane's face.

"I don't understand," Sildane had responded, almost drawing away from the contact.

"Breathe and focus," Ghedlyn instructed, sounding suddenly insistent, "Focus and breathe."

The other girl touching either side of her face with warm fingers, Sildane tried to focus. She let her eyes drift closed and tried to modulate her breathing. Without Rayanne Sedai's instructions to follow, she felt so nervous. She could hear Ghedlyn's breathing and feel the other girl's body trembling through her hands. Sildane began to slip away into the darkness of her own conscious mind. She tried to remember the visualizations Rayanne Sedai taught her. A flower bud, and the sun?

"Carefully, never too deep. So far and no farther," Ghedlyn whispered.

Sildane felt something strange, like warmth, tickling the back of her neck. She felt a bit as if she were a flower opening to the light. She remembered the warmth leaping up to her ears earlier that afternoon.

Suddenly, a blast of heat opened through her as Ghedlyn did _something_. She felt as if she had been hit flat in the face with the blaze of the sun. Her jaw fell open. So sweet. So sweet! There was a pain too, hurt inside, as if she had been torn open and pulled wide apart. But the pleasure of the light flooded her and filled her and ensnared her. Ghedlyn was with her.

When she opened her eyes, she and Ghedlyn were both surrounded in the radiance. The room, dark but for the oil lantern hung by the door, leapt in vivid shapes and shadows. The house creaked and sang in the mildest breeze outside. She could taste rain not yet fallen. Every sensation had become so vital and intense that it nearly blew her away, all as if stepped up by a magnifying lens. If Sildane was a star perched on the bed, Ghedlyn sitting next to her was surrounded by a halo of fire so much more intense than her own as to overwhelm her. Sildane knew at once what Rayanne Sedai meant when she commented on Ghedlyn's strength.

Ghedlyn's hands had fallen away, "This is _saidar_."

"What have you done?" Sildane asked in stupefied awe, her mind swimming. "What is this?"

"When I did not know _saidar_," Ghedlyn managed after a long pause, "Rayanne Sedai used to do this for me. She still does it once every two weeks and five days. She names it a Link."

"You have lived like this your whole life?"

Ghedlyn shook her head, "I do not know."

"How...?"

"Carefully now," Ghedlyn told her, "I hold it now for us both, but I will pass yours to you and we will be separate. Separate and separate."

Sildane felt her again, doing something. She did not sense Ghedlyn now so much, but she could feel the warmth.

"Careful focus," Ghedlyn whispered, "if you try to grab it, it will go away. You must always let it come to you. This far and not farther."

Then the warmth was Sildane's alone.

She had never felt so happy.

With Ghedlyn's help, she had managed to reach the source several more times.

Dark eyebrows furrowed in a fearful determination, Ghedlyn had taught her the simple weave of the ball of light. The night evolved and grew into a time that she would never ever forget.

Her mother grabbed her arm and snapped her out of her reverie, "Are you planning on standing there with that foolish look on your face all morning. By the Light, I have no idea what has got into you today."

Sildane ended up shuffling after her mother wordlessly when they left the Tailor's shop. She carried the basket before her and followed at a distance.

"Come on, come on," her mother hurried her along, pulling her by the wrist.

Sildane yawned for the hundredth time and adjusted the blue kerchief she wore to hold back her frizzled bronze hair. They walked the dusty main street of the small town maneuvering around horses and Andoran riders and peddlers pushing their wares. A Cairhienin with a powdered face and shaven forehead spoke to a shopkeeper. Sildane only half remembered most of the walk. They were midway back to the farmhold before she even realized they had left the town. Sildane's mind lingered exclusively on the single weave she knew with the one power, wishing she could just reach the source in order to try it again.

Her mother looked at her oddly several times, "Have you got a cold? Why are you breathing so strangely?"

"No mother," Sildane explained, "It's something Rayanne Sedai taught me."

Her mother shook her head and continued walking, "You should get your mind out of the clouds. No good will come of this."

Sildane gave her an elaborate sigh and made a face.

Once they reached the farm, her mother lead the way to the manor house. Several housewomen greeted them on the way in.

"Oh, Aes Sedai," her mother bowed her head slightly when they walked into the kitchen, "I see you are awake."

"Menae," Rayanne Sedai returned the greeting with a nod. She had brushed out her mane of golden hair and braided it back into the immaculate state that Sildane so admired. She wore a gray dress with silver scrollwork along the sleeves and hems, but had tied a kerchief above her ears and put on an apron to help in the kitchen. The Aes Sedai glanced at Sildane and nodded, "Remember," she said, "no attempting to channel without me around."

Sildane bit her lip, not certain she wanted to admit she had been trying and failing to channel all morning.

Mussy-haired Ghedlyn was sitting at a counter across the kitchen, her head drooping while she ate a meal. The younger girl looked even more tired than Sildane felt. Sildane started across the kitchen to meet her friend.

Rayanne Sedai stopped her with a hand on the shoulder, "Sildane."

"Yes, Aes Sedai?" Sildane bowed her head.

"If you want to give her a gift to thank her for last evening," the Aes Sedai had produced an old leather-backed book and pressed it into Sildane's hands, "maybe you would think about giving her this? She lost her last book in the accident. I think she's been depressed about losing that."

"But yesterday she tore up the part Alibet and I put back together for her," Sildane protested.

Rayanne Sedai gave a bland smile, her gem-like blue eyes twinkling. It was the first time Sildane thought her genuinely happy since the accident that nearly killed Ghedlyn, "She had a good reason. This book might serve as a replacement."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me," Rayanne Sedai replied, "she will like that book."

With a smile, Sildane took the book across the kitchen to Ghedlyn.

The black-haired girl had minced the wheat mash and berries on her plate around until they were arranged in a strange geometric design. Her onyx eyes were sunken and slung with bags.

"I have a gift for you," Sildane said, plunking the book onto the counter. "I know you will like it."

Ghedlyn did not reply. She did not meet Sildane's eyes. Her gaze drifted from her food to the book and back to her food. She chewed dully without making the slightest acknowledgement.

"If- if you do not want me to talk to you... I'll..." Sildane felt suddenly worried that Ghedlyn's openness from the night before had been replaced by her usual inscrutable silence. She could become a rock wall so easily. _What if she doesn't want to be friends with me after all_, she fretted silently.

Ghedlyn's hand darted out and caught her wrist. The girl did not say anything, but she did not let go either.

Leather-bound book sitting on the counter beneath both their hands, Ghedlyn met Sildane's gaze directly, black eyes focused on brown. The night before remained between them. Ghedlyn had not forgotten.

"Forever," was all black-haired girl said in her sing-song voice.

"Forever," Sildane agreed.

* * *

End of Book 2 


	26. Book 3: Chapter 1

**Youngest Channeler: Book 3**

by viggen

Snows since gone and replaced most often by daily rains, the grasses of the plains had quickened from dismal gray into a sharp, even lawn of green. The periodic trees that dotted rolling hills put out flowers or were fully fledged with summer leaves. The winds breathed gently from the west, whispering among the hollows. Sparse insect and biteme swarms appeared at long last after the final winter thaw.

"Hiya! Keep it moving!" one of the drivers snapped at his team of horses.

To the northeast loomed the Dragonmount, a dagger piercing high into the boreal blue and snagging a bevy of clouds on its tip. Beyond that would be Tar Valon. Over there somewhere was the White Tower.

Rayanne sat husky white Olivander atop a rise beside the road and watched Dursh Prim directing the drivers of his carts. She did not dislike Olivander, but wished none-the-less for her usual gray-flecked Prancer, the horse she knew and loved best.

The small caravan consisted of five carts and a pair of horses for each, which Prim had been arranging to be brought to the farm since nearly the beginning of winter. He did not and probably would never completely trust Rayanne, but he agreed to Ghedlyn's safety and had put forth every effort for this trip. The carts were loaded down with casks of dried meat, with sacks of grain and flour and seed, with bushel baskets of goods. He had arranged a driver and attendant for each cart, keeping records of the trade they made when they stopped at each small village along the road. Drush was already well known among many of the villages near the farm, so most of the shopkeepers and merchants were willing to do business with him. Many were happy to see him at full scale trade rather than sending or receiving messages from across the lands.

Sildane and Ghedlyn sat in the back of the very last cart playing a game of strings Sildane had finally succeeded in teaching to Ghedlyn. Both girls were dressed in long black and gray cloaks tailored like those of the cart attendants. Dursh had gotten cloaks made up for his entire trading crew, then had Menae and other seamstresses on the farm stitch a tiny silver anchor insignia on the breast of each. It was the signature of his trading company, he explained. While the girls were too young to be serious in the business of trade, according to Dursh, apprentices their age and younger frequently traveled with many a company. The younger an age at which a child started learning to trade, he claimed, the better they got when they reached their prime.

Rayanne also wore the same black and gray cloak as the girls, and kept the cowl constantly shadowing her ageless face. She had been careful not to lower the hood while they were in towns and did not make any concessions to comfort on the road. She had also been avoiding embracing _saidar_ while they traveled, and so experienced heat and cold more than she otherwise might.

She felt Ghedlyn fill suddenly with the source again. Sildane gave a squawk, "Ghed!" and prodded her friend. Ghedlyn startled and immediately released _saidar_.

Rayanne shook her head. The conscious effort to avoid holding the source was proving more of a challenge to poor Ghedlyn than learning to embrace _saidar_ proved for most women. Rayanne had explained the need for her to control her impulses over and over again, but Ghedlyn seemed driven to it unconsciously. Every time the girl began to relax along the trip, she would suddenly slip and embrace _saidar_, then hastily push it away again the moment she realized her mistake. Rayanne wondered offhand if any girl in training had ever needed to be tested for the ability to NOT touch the power. Her natural state holding the power made her ill-accustomed to persisting without. And, the fact that she had spent a huge fraction of her still-short life embracing _saidar_ continuously from dawn to dusk gave her a freakish kind of endurance that probably exceeded that of any Aes Sedai even ten or fifteen times her age and experience. In this one circumstance, her talent was proving a liability rather than a gift. Rayanne wished desperately she had foreseen the danger months ago in order to start training Ghedlyn to help conceal herself.

Staccato hoof-beats echoed as Nordel rode into view over a nearby rise, astride the tan and spotted draft-horse Corbilis in place of his usual white warhorse Ragabash. Corbilis seemed more or less equal to the task, though Rayanne wondered if the horse would survive this whole adventure. Corbilis grunting and heaving, turning up clods of top-soil with freshly grown grass each time his hoofs lifted, Nordel reined in to a trot when he finally arrived at the caravan. He waved to Dursh, who rode old, reliable Pidge at the head of the train, then made his way toward Rayanne.

"We are nearly alone at the moment," Nordel said by way of greeting. His slim, cruel face was slicked with sweat and he mopped his shaven crown. He spun Corbilis into place beside Olivander. The draft-horse grunted and whickered unhappily at the warder's demanding touch. "There were a few hunters a half league back along the road, but no one ahead for quite some distance. Tradesman Prim knew of what he spoke when he claimed the roads would be relatively empty here this time of year. Still, I feel he should have brought more guards and outriders. We are naked."

"The Tradesman claims a common bandit ploy is to draw off outriders before attacking," Rayanne said, "He says his main defense must stay with his goods. He does know his trade, so we are probably wise to rely on his judgment."

Nordel chuckled, "That man on the second cart does seem fairly handy with that cudgel he drags."

"They are all rough," Rayanne agreed, unconsciously wiping her hands on her cloak. "So long as Tradesman Prim paid them enough to keep them agreeable, I doubt we'll have problems from them..." she trailed off in frustration.

Nordel nodded, "I hear you, my lady. Not the usual rough-cuts we're worried about, though."

"And you say there are no people waiting ahead," Rayanne checked again.

"The ones we're actually concerned with might not be so easy to spot," Nordel said, "I am doing what I can."

"One can hope," Rayanne agreed half-heartedly. "I could set wards at night, but it would give me away. How far now until the crossing?"

"Less than half a day," Nordel responded, "not quite so close that I could see it from higher ground."

"If there were any ground higher here," Rayanne quipped at the rolling terrain. She felt blind among the low hills and could not shake the uneasy feeling at holding off from channeling. No way to know who might be hiding behind that next rise.

"The crossing is no farther than can be reached by late afternoon," Nordel amended, "I know this area. If this caravan could travel more quickly, perhaps we could be there by noon."

Rayanne shook her head, "Speed is not what is needed now. Speed comes later."

Nordel smiled, "If everything works out, perhaps we will be in Tar Valon by tomorrow night or the day after."

"And then we will have to move slowly and carefully. Light, will we be prepared for that?"

"Each challenge as it comes," the warder reached over and squeezed her shoulder with a steady hand, "we must get there first."


	27. Book 3: Chapter 2

Sildane sat with her back to Ghedlyn at the grassy side of the crossroad. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her shoulders in an effort to fend off the chilling wind that began to blow once the sun sulked down to the western horizon. While the days no longer froze quite the way they did during winter, the nights still bit with icy fangs. Sildane had never particularly liked the cold. She wished she could make herself a small ball of fire to help keep herself warmer, but Rayanne Sedai had forbidden her from channeling while they traveled.

Ghedlyn remained on her knees scratching at the unfrozen roadway mud with her favorite stone. The symbols she scripted carefully onto the ground were intractable to Sildane. As always, her favorite book, the ancient leather-bound text Sildane had given her almost a year before, lay open at her knees. She had been writing for a long while already, focused hawkishly on the lonely signpost that marked the crossroad as if she had never seen such a thing before. Once she began one of these pursuits, she would be at it until she fell on her face from exhaustion or was dragged away kicking. Sildane wondered how her friend could concentrate so intensely on something so... uninteresting. She continued her work even though the shadows became long with the darkening sky. Sildane thought that the symbols Ghedlyn wrote were little more than a formality; her friend probably remembered everything on the ground before her and did not actually need to see any of it to continue.

In the fresh grasses just off the crossing, Tradesman Prim continued to instruct his subordinates at tying skins over one of the carts. Nordel stood by a rumbling fire helping dry out a carpet which had gotten wet in a rain shower earlier that afternoon. Rayanne Sedai perched on a hill nearby, her hood pulled up, watching the surrounding roads that converged at the crossing despite the expanding dusk that would soon blind them all. Because she so scarcely seemed to move, the Aes Sedai looked like a brooding statue soon to be reclaimed by nighttime moss. The fire set by the warder rapidly became the source of all shadows still dancing around the crossroad.

Winds skulked in from the north west across the grasslands. The scent of water wafted on the air, through the cold, with but a hint of actual frost. Sildane pushed a frizzled bronze lock off her forehead. She shivered and breathed a gout of fog.

What would the White Tower be like? Rayanne Sedai said the training would be harsh. The Aes Sedai said the discipline would be strict. Sildane wondered how often she would work the kitchens. How many times would she do penance? Would she be whipped? What were the Aes Sedai teachers like? What about the Accepted? What if she wasn't good enough? She knew she represented a totally different case from Ghedlyn and knew there were no assurances she and Ghedlyn would remain together beyond this trip. While they all began this journey for Ghedlyn's sake, Sildane suspected her own future would be addressed as well.

It had been nearly a year since the Aes Sedai with the long golden braid and ice-blue eyes offered Sildane the choice. That choice had been to learn to channel or to lead a normal life. Sildane had jumped at the chance to channel. She remembered the day she accepted, despite her mother's wishes. She remembered the elation.

Now, she knew uncertainty.

Rayanne Sedai had told her the Tower would be in her future. Sitting side-by-side with Ghedlyn, learning with Ghedlyn, she had not thought about the implications. She remembered night after night of lessons. She had practiced hard. She had spent her life in carefree training and not considered for an instant that anything could ever be different. Her world up to only a few days ago had been Rayanne Sedai explaining things and then Ghedlyn teaching her what exactly the Aes Sedai meant. She thought she had learned a lot. Now that they traveled north and east toward the White Tower, she was no longer so certain. By learning to channel from a lone Yellow sister what in her education could be lacking? Would other novices her age already know more than she? She wished again she could embrace the source and feel its comfort, except that Rayanne's prohibition remained in effect. If she could just ensconce herself in the touch of _saidar_, maybe the forbidding Tower would daunt her less.

She felt the surge behind her when Ghedlyn suddenly embraced the source. Her friend lit up like the sun on a cloudless day.

Turning quickly and crawling on her knees, Sildane tapped Ghedlyn on the shoulder, "Ghed." It always amazed Sildane how strong the other girl was and how totally unaware of it.

"Ah!" Ghedlyn startled, mangling the symbol she had been scratching. _Saidar_ winked out of her in a breath. "S- sorry-," she managed in that sing-song voice, bowing over to touch her forehead to the ground. Her frustration was palpable: she had slipped yet again.

"It won't be long," Sildane patted her back, "just a couple more days."

"So long," Ghedlyn whispered, "so long."

"Rayanne Sedai will be with us," Sildane told her, "I'm not going anywhere."

Ghedlyn shook her head and did not reply. Her silken black hair fell down across her face. It could sometimes be difficult to tell how aware or unaware she was of the world around her. She had squeezed her almond shaped eyes closed and seemed to be trying to look backward into her own brain.

"It's time!" Rayanne Sedai dashed from the top of the short hill, actually allowing the cowl of her cloak to fall down onto her shoulders as she ran. Her face held a fearsome light that mixed excitement with fright. Anyone who did not know the Aes Sedai well would think her completely at peace with herself, though Sildane knew better, "They are coming!"

Nordel was the first to move. He shook out the carpet he had been drying, folded it over and then double. He tossed the carpet to one of the Ghedlyn's father's men and strode to meet Rayanne Sedai.

The attendants and drivers scrambled to their carts to grab up cudgels or swords.

"...As we planned," Rayanne Sedai was telling Nordel, "they are coming from the south."

"You certain it is not someone else?" the warder asked.

"Two horses," the blonde woman responded, "I think two riders each. It must be them."

Ghedlyn's father loomed over the two girls sitting beside the road, "Ghedlyn, Sildane, back into the cart with you! And I mean now!"

"Oh!" Sildane protested, coming to her feet. She dusted off her black and gray uniform cloak.

Ghedlyn did not seem to have heard. She continued to crouch with her eyes closed as if pretending to be unnoticed.

"Now!" Dursh grabbed his daughter under her arms and dragged her off the ground, heedless of her protests. She gave a her usual aggravated squeal but did not fight back more than that. Once he set his daughter on her feet, she immediately stooped to snatch her favorite book. "We have to be certain it's them," Dursh told to both girls, "before we let down our guard. For the moment, you are still just apprentice traders. Remember that!"

Sildane helped Ghedlyn into the back of the last cart with her friend mumbling a stream of words too low for Sildane to hear or understand. Tradesman Prim reached his horse and all his men sat in their carts, fingering whatever weapons they had. One man per cart brought out a bow with a quivers of arrows. Rayanne Sedai stood beside Olivander, waiting, but unwilling to mount. Nordel walked lazily to the middle of the crossroad to pick a twig out of the mud. The warder might well have been deciding whether or not to plant a field.

"I hear," Ghedlyn whispered, "I hear." She sank lower in the bed of the cart and wrapped her arms around her head as if she really did not want to hear. Very likely, with her father's men taking up arms, Sildane knew Ghedlyn was anticipating pain. Ever since the incident with the exploding tree, Ghedlyn seemed obsessed with learning the signs by which to foretell any sort of serious hurt in order to avoid anything and everything that might happen. Sildane did not know whether her friend was worried about her own mortality, or about simply avoiding pain.

One arm wrapped around Ghedlyn, Sildane knew she had to see everything soon to transpire. She kept her head low so that just her brownish eyes peered over the side of the cart. Ghedlyn shivered in fright. If anything happened, Sildane knew that she would need to watch out for them both.

Nobody spoke. Men sitting on the carts all looked the same direction. Sildane could hear faint groan of someone drawing a bowstring and the sibilant hiss of wood sliding across wood. Nordel stood with his hands planted on his hips, his back lit by firelight, gazing south on the road. What he could see, staring out into the dark, Sildane could not guess. The warder spat loudly on the dirt.

Sildane thought she heard the rhythmic thumping of hooves from down the road. A horse snuffled. One of traders murmured something to the man next to him. Forms moved out in the rippling gloom.

"Tradesman Prim!" someone shouted from the shadows of the roadway. Sildane immediately recognized the voice, "I certainly do hope you fellows are not planning to feather the lot of us with arrows. My wife would be none-to-pleased back at the farm."

"Master Tempedan," Ghedlyn's father responded. The men on the carts immediately lowered their weapons, "were you to ride up sooner, maybe your welcome would have been better."

"We were minorly delayed," the smith returned. "Blood and ashes that we should ride without stopping through these rains! And you wanted these horses to be fresh!"

"That we did," Nordel called.

Two horses emerged into the arc of light cast by the campfire, plodding steadily along the roadway from the south. Master Tempedan and Alibet sat astride huge, white Ragabash while the Tempedan's two older apprentices, Jakes and Feodr, rode Prancer. Both horses appeared rested, having been walked the entire trip, despite carrying four growing or grown smiths between them. Master Tempedan lurched and nearly fell off Ragabash, pulling Alibet down with him, in his haste to dismount and shake hands with Nordel. All the traders were off their carts and back to their work in an instant, tying up the last of the wares they had been drying.

Rayanne Sedai moved to take Prancer's reins from Jakes, the lanky blond boy with the crooked grin who was Master Tempedan's oldest student. Soon, both horses were unburdened.

"Ghedlyn, they're here," Sildane told her friend, "It's time to go."


	28. Book 3: Chapter 3

"We circled to the south, just as you asked," Tempedan told Nordel as the two stood together in the middle of the road, "I thought maybe there were some unsavory fellows walking in our shadows for the first two villages we passed, but I let them look close at me and my boys every chance I got." 

Nordel's lips curled slightly, almost smiling, but his dark eyes remained unmoved, "Paranoia is useful, but I doubt you would notice those we are most concerned about."

"They were there," Tempedan insisted. He pulled at his beard with a calloused hand, "I do have eyes with which to see."

"That you do, my friend," Nordel chuckled. The smith was even worse at cloak and blade exercises than his Aes Sedai. "And we appreciate all your efforts. I am pleased you made it here today. In all that rain, we may have missed each other."

"Never," Tempedan took off his plain woolen cloak and passed it to Nordel, "not for all the finest iron mined in Baerlon. I said we would be here, and we're here."

Nordel removed his own gray and black cloak and accepted the one Master Tempedan offered.

"Quickly," Rayanne Sedai scurried up and tossed a ruck-sack to her warder. She had already traded cloaks with Jakes. "We had agreed that now is the time for speed."

"My many thanks Master Smith," Nordel shook hands with Tempedan, then threw the woolen cloak over his shoulder.

Tradesman Prim struggled to help Ghedlyn with her cloak, though the small black-haired girl squirmed and fretted, refusing to release the leather bound volume she almost always carried under one arm or the other. "Come now, Ghedlyn," Dursh sighed to her, annoyance in his words, but not his tone, "we have no time for this."

"Papa?" Ghedlyn finally let go of the book long enough to allow her father to finish with her cloak. Nordel knew the girl's dread of novelty would probably never completely vanish, no matter what steps she finally took to communicate with even these precious few people. Before they left the farm, Rayanne Sedai had fought to clothe her in a dingy dress aside from her usual white, but the black-haired girl would not hear of it. At least they had managed to coax her into wearing a trader cloak overtop the condemning white.

Sildane exchanged words with Alibet while the two of them traded cloaks. For the moment, the frizzy bronze haired girl stood eye to eye with the boy. Sildane had recently sprouted and stood nearly the height of her mother, which put her of a nose with Alibet, who might tower over her when, or if, the two of them saw each other again. The gray and blue dress Sildane wore did not hide the beginnings of a figure and her pointed chin gave her an imperious air that steadily strengthened. While he had never thought Sildane so lovely a girl, Nordel had come to believe she would be an attractive woman in the years around her prime before she put on her mother's weight. The girl's main charm had always been her openness and vitality rather than her beauty.

Though a year older than Sildane, Alibet still retained more childhood than she did. The sandy mop-topped, blue-eyed boy with the chronically petulant mouth had lean, stringy muscles from working the forge, but those muscles would bulge when he finally began to put on adult weight. For the moment, though, he remained skinny and light.

Nordel did not hear what passed between the two adolescents, but Alibet's eyes flashed angrily before Sildane smacked him hard across the face. The blacksmith apprentice stalked angrily away with a reddened cheek before Sildane could wag her finger beneath his nose. Nordel did not miss the glare Alibet cast at Ghedlyn on the way by. Ghedlyn, more concerned with wrapping her precious book in the folds of her new cloak, did not notice at all.

"Here," Rayanne pushed another sack into Nordel's hands, "you had best carry this."

"More food?" Nordel asked, glimpsing the contents, "We'll hardly have time to stop and eat as it is."

"We are four people here," the Aes Sedai answered, "we'll need the cheese at least to help keep Ghedlyn calm."

"Papa," Ghedlyn suddenly hugged her father, "please don't make me leave, Papa, please don't make me leave..."

Dursh held onto his daughter, beaming at her rare display of affection, though the pride rapidly dwindled. "You go to the White Tower," he said, voice cracking, "stay with Rayanne Sedai and Sildane. In a week, maybe in a couple weeks," his voice cracked hoarsely, "we will meet again and go back to the farm. Everything will be like it was."

"Everything is changing, Papa, everything," Ghedlyn whimpered into his collar, "please don't make me go."

In the shuffle, belongings were moved to Ragabash and Prancer. The depths of nighttime shadow overwhelmed all but the light from the campfire and speckle of stars overhead. Nordel wished they had planned this trip on a full moon, but the time for such regrets was long past. At least they would not be riding in rain before morning. The warder smiled bitterly, wondering how long their luck would hold. Ironically, everything was going according to plan for the moment.

Finally, Dursh Prim was handing his daughter up to Nordel, mounted on huge white Ragabash. The great war horse held stiffly at attention, in perfect contrast to Corbilis. While the drafthorse had been agreeable, Nordel was happy once again astride Ragabash. Rayanne Sedai had pulled Prancer close beside him, with Sildane sitting across the saddle behind her, arms wrapped around the Aes Sedai.

"We will douse the campfire and be on the road headed east in no time," the Tradesman was saying, though he kept patting his daughter on the back and touching her arm. "We will cross the Erinin to trade on the opposite shore, then be on our way back at the end of the week. We will meet in Tresgarde?"

"Tresgarde as soon as we can manage," the warder agreed, "but predicting what will happen at the Tower is not possible. I will find a way to get word to you."

"On your honor," Dursh pat Ghedlyn on the back.

Nordel laughed, "Not to worry Tradesman. I will see to your daughter with my life." He tucked an arm around Ghedlyn to hold her and adjusted the reins. Ragabash whickered and Ghedlyn pushed her book against Nordel's belly.

Master Tempedan handed a flaming torch up to Rayanne, "Aes Sedai, best you have some light to see by. My boys and I were bloody near to tripping over ourselves for a while there after dusk fell."

Rayanne Sedai shook off his course tongue and accepted the offered flame, "Thank you Master Smith, we will meet again before long." She kicked her heels into Prancer's flanks and started the speckled gray off at a canter heading north. "Nordel?"

"I'm with you, Aes Sedai. I will bring up the rear so that I can protect us from anyone in our wake." He gestured Rayanne to lead them off, then checked to see that Ghedlyn was comfortably situated. "Farewell Tradesman Prim," Nordel waved as he tipped Ragabash to follow Prancer.

"Papa," Ghedlyn nearly whispered with her head buried against Nordel's chest.

The remaining traders and the four blacksmiths watched the two horses canter to the north. Alibet's eyes were hooded where he sat beside the campfire and Nordel could hardly see the boy's face. The sandy haired boy was the only one who did not raise his hand in farewell as the warder and Aes Sedai left.

With Rayanne leading and carrying the single torch, the nighttime darkness quickly enveloped them with the road unspooling its way to the north. Soon, the campfire was nothing but a glimmer far behind. The horses' hooves made deep, hollow, thumping concussions on the still-soft ground, in addition to the occasional emmaciated splash. Both horses grunted and puffed, but made no complaints at riding through the dark. Rayanne's torch shot reflections off wet rocks glinting on the road. The wet remained in the air, a clean, clear welcoming odor hinting that spring had fully sprung.

Being so involved with preparations for this late-night ride, Nordel had hardly noticed the creeping chill that now nipped at his nose. He refrained from whistling, though his heart soared.


	29. Book 3: Chapter 4

Sildane blew her lungs out in a huff. Releasing her grip on Rayanne Sedai and leaning carefully to maintain balance, she breathed on her palms and rubbed them together to help warm her hands. The cold sliced more deeply as the night aged. A waning quarter moon flirted with the eastern horizon, casting faint, bristling shadows of the surrounding grasslands. Rayanne traded the dwindling torch from one hand to the other, as she had frequently since they started out. Although Sildane offered to carry the fire for her once, the Aes Sedai refused. 

Rayanne Sedai kept Prancer moving at a continuous canter which she slowed only infrequently to a restful walk. Sildane had ridden a few horses on the farm but was impressed by just how smoothly and easily Prancer flowed, barely jostling her riders at anything less than a full gallop. Rayanne had made Sildane and Ghedlyn practice riding on a daily basis throughout the winter and Ghedlyn had finally attained the capacity to sit on a horse without dissolving into a wailing panic. The younger girl hardly made any sounds at all riding with Nordel on Ragabash behind them. The warder deftly maneuvered his white destrier like a pale ghost at the edge of the torchlight. He paced Ragabash at one of Prancer's flanks for a while before moving to the other, constantly rotating positions as if the great horse was actually a moth circling Rayanne Sedai's solitary flame.

As the night trotted gradually past, Rayanne pressed at conversation with Sildane to keep them both awake. They would not be stopping to rest and Sildane had already descended precariously close to dozing on several occasions when lulled by Prancer's fluid gait.

"They do not make more sense with age," the Aes Sedai traded the flaming torch from one hand to the other so she could rest her muscles. She spoke just loudly enough for Sildane to hear her, "You will find that they simply grow older without actually maturing. Childhood might be the one time in life when they actually make something close to sense. I have watched them reach manhood and always become more indecipherable rather than less."

"If there was anything to decipher," Sildane tried to prop herself more firmly against Rayanne Sedai. With the chill of the night, she found as much interest in her mentor's body heat as in her wisdom. The chirping of a cricket ran counterpoint to the splashing of Prancer's hoof in an unseen puddle.

Rayanne Sedai laughed, "Not so uncommon a complaint, I think. As mutton headed as they can be, you will find they respond well to a degree of coddling. Just sit back and wait and they will come to you. You might think of it as taking care of a simple pet."

"But what should I have done?" Sildane asked, "It made me so very angry. I think he actually enjoys making me angry."

"Bad attention is still attention," Rayanne Sedai pointed out. "Perhaps this time apart is just the antidote to resolve this misunderstanding. You will see, it was just some sort misunderstanding." She thought about it for a moment before adding, "Of course, jealously might have played some role in his statement as well."

"Why?" Sildane demanded, feeling some heat rise to her face, "what did I do to cause that?"

"There are assuredly some things it would not be ladylike to broach too directly," the Aes Sedai answered close to snidely. "Besides, if you did not think it for yourself, you're probably not yet ready to understand it."

"Now you're teasing me," Sildane accused.

"What would ever gives you that idea?" Rayanne Sedai laughed, low and malevolent. "I think it was Nordel who once told me that no one, not a king, not a lord, not an Aes Sedai nor even an Amyrlin Seat can live without sometimes finding a reason to laugh..."

"Especially when you least feel like it!" Nordel piped up from behind them, Ragabash maneuvering to their right flank.

"You heard us talking!?" Rayanne accused, still half in laughter. She turned to the right in the saddle to cast a mock-glare at her warder, "Swine, eavesdropper. At least a good servant would have the sense to turn a blind ear to his mistress' private conversations."

"A good servant you say. Only if you were giving good advice about the opposite..."

A hissing sound sliding sibilantly across the rustle of windswept grass punctuated itself with a grunting thud that slammed Rayanne Sedai backward into Sildane. Sildane jumped in the saddle at the pinprick to her breast and the sticky warmth down the front of her cloak. In the light of the torch the Aes Sedai held high there glinted a sharp broadhead crossbow bolt that protruded through her shoulder and threatened to bite Sildane like a fearsome, bloody serpent.

With a shriek of surprise, Sildane almost fell backward out of the saddle. She could hardly regain her balance without grabbing hold of Rayanne Sedai and managing to impale herself on the thing projecting out of the Aes Sedai's back. When her sluggish brain revealed to her that she was staring at a crossbow bolt not a hand's breadth from her own chest, she screamed all the harder in horror. Her shriek became a high, thoughtless keen when a second bolt slammed through her leg and into Prancer. The mare gave a terrified squeal of her own and reared powerfully, kicking at the sky, tossing Sildane free of the saddle. Sildane would have fallen away were her leg not pinned directly into the side of the horse by the evil quill transfixing them both. The broadhead came free of the animal an instant later just as Sildane miraculously caught hold of the back of the saddle with both hands. She almost lost her grip immediately as Prancer began to buck.

"The flame!" Nordel shouted, "they're sighting on the torch!"

"Wha..?" Sildane heard Rayanne Sedai answer as if in a fog.

Nordel's straight sword winked out of his scabbard as he brought Ragabash forward in a surge. He flicked his blade toward the torch his Aes Sedai held and nipped off the flaming tip, which spiraled gracefully away to land in the brush. Dangling from the back of the horse and continuing to scream as she was bashed against Prancer's rear legs when the horse kicked out, Sildane's tenuous grip failed just as the warder reached her. She found herself thrown across Ragabash's neck just ahead of the cowering Ghedlyn a heartbeat later.

"Hold tight!" Nordel ordered, all ice and steel.

Sildane could hardly see anything at the sudden absence of the torch flame. She lay against Ragabash's powerful neck reduced finally to a piteous whimper at the searing blade of pain punched through her right leg just below her knee. All she could do was cling and whimper and bury her face in the horse's lathery mane.

Nordel had caught Prancer's reins from Rayanne Sedai and brought both horses immediately to a full-tilt gallop. The Aes Sedai's horse initially fought being lead, dragging Ragabash to the right, until they made it up to speed and Prancer decided that flight was just as comforting as bucking and fighting. In her own cloud of pain, Sildane could hear the mare continuing to squeal and blow.

"Hold on!" the warder instructed again, patting Sildane on the back.

Without the torch light, the depleted world, smelling of wet, precipitating clouds and crushed grass, ranged around them in a gloom of shadows. Somehow, Nordel seemed to know which way to ride and kept both animals flying. Clawing brush, felt but unseen, snatched menacingly at Sildane's hair on the way past. The horses hooves clattered a thunder, sometimes solidly and sometimes through mud. Sildane managed to cling to Ragabash despite being jounced on the powerful war-horse's back. Winds seemed to have picked up, hitting Sildane in the neck and face with grains of dust and droplets of water. She spat and coughed when something flew into her mouth. Tiny lights, sparks like fireflies fell down on them through the night as if they were driven snow.

Sildane wanted to embrace the source, but the pain in her leg ruined her ability to focus. Rayanne Sedai's prohibition against channeling seemed a distant concern. But, all she could do was hang on amid the jostling flight through the darkness. Something tickled her, some strange feeling or awareness that she could not quite bring into focus.

"Ghedlyn..." Rayanne Sedai croaked, barely hanging on to Prancer with her one good arm and barely audible over the thunder of hooves, "Try... to stop... Ghedlyn..."


	30. Book 3: Chapter 5

The whole world burned and throbbed in a bloom of agony that seemed to emanate from her core and project outward to all her extremities. She breathed with difficulty, but continued to breathe. She understood that the bolt shaft had passed through her shoulder and decided from her ability to operate her lungs that her chest cavity remained unbreached for the moment. The Yellow Ajah sister in her ticked off clinical diagnostics with a detached precision, but those thoughts skirted into and out of reach as quickly as she formed them. She might be bleeding internally if the bolt nicked arteries leading into her arm from her chest. If the puncture in her chest cavity widened, or if the bolt shaft had injured or perforated a lung, she might drown on her own blood or suffocate, unable to draw a breath. If the shaft broke or shifted, she might find herself dead in moments. All feeling from her injured arm clear down to her fingertips vanished into the conflagration of pain and she could not even begin to guess whether her hand remained attached. 

Rayanne Sedai continued barely to cling to Prancer's saddle with her one good hand as she began to recover herself from the shock of the attack. Turning her head, she could see the fletchings of the crossbow bolt still protruding from her shoulder. She could feel the shaft seize and sting every time Prancer's feet descended. She did not understand why Prancer's gait was so uncharacteristically rough; usually her favorite horse was wind across willows.

As an Aes Sedai, she remained serene, somehow. Remarkably enough, she had not cried out when struck by the bolt, though she could hardly recall the moments after. She had always wondered whether her composure would hold up when she finally faced a true physical challenge.

In her fog, she became aware suddenly of a woman very near embracing the source and drawing into herself an enormous amount of _saidar_. Rayanne struggled to right herself in the saddle. The weakening fingers of her still functional left hand were all that kept her from pulling free of Prancer and surrendering to the depths of darkness. A tumble out of the saddle at this gallop would be her last. Lit as if by day in the glow of _saidar_, Ghedlyn had nestled as deeply into Nordel's cloak as she could without actually being the warder and had begun to channel completely at random.

Threads of Fire spun out, forming into tiny sparks of flame that drifted down on them from the sky. Air threads clawed into the atmosphere, picking up a breeze, while flickers of Water and Earth whipped up grains of dirt and droplets of moisture. She wove out strands of Spirit without a wayward thought.

Rayanne felt a thrill of fear pass through her that she struggled to master. If their attackers had a woman among them capable of channeling, what Ghedlyn was doing would give them away! If the girl managed to spark off a fire in the grasslands, the trail behind them would lead any number of pursuers.

"Ghedlyn...," she nearly gagged. How could her breath be so short? She could hardly comprehend. Her voice came out so small that no one would hear it over the horses. Why wasn't Sildane doing anything to stop Ghedlyn? Rayanne realized she could not feel the bronze haired girl mounted with her on Prancer. Sildane had been there only moments ago! Had she fallen off or been killed? "Sildane..." the strength of her voice had not improved from her last attempt.

Ghedlyn spun out nonsense weaves, wads of worthless, pointless weaving of all five powers in a mutilated tangle, almost as swiftly as anyone could possibly channel. Rayanne could not believe how quickly or how much power she applied to accomplishing exactly nothing. Blazing loops and tatters of not-quite-weaves flew out of the girl, splashing down on the darkened road behind the horses like luminous sprays of blood that only channeling women would be able to see. An Aes Sedai and maybe a few wilders would be able to track them from a league away. Much worse, lines of flame danced through the grasses around the fleeing horses only to sputter out on wetness left by the afternoon rain. Rayanne did not know if she could muster enough focus to embrace the power, let alone create a shield strong enough to cut Ghedlyn off.

Where was Sildane?

Prioritizing one effort at a time, she tried to calm herself, then struggled to summon more force into her lungs. Droplets of water hit her face. Drawing breath felt like a thousand bees stinging her all the way down the right side of her body. "Ghedlyn..." she wrenched out, "Try... to stop... Ghedlyn..."

"Aes Sedai, you're speaking!" Nordel belted back. She could feel now the depth of her warder's anguish and concern through the link they shared. Given the intensity of her pain, Nordel had probably not been able to tell whether she remained aware or not.

"...Aes... Sedai...!" it was Sildane! Though the words were high and thready, filled with hurt and fear, Rayanne found herself breathing more easily at the first confirmation that the bronze haired girl was actually still with them.

"I erred gravely, Aes Sedai," Nordel announced to her in a steel tone, "I was watching for someone pursuing us and I never expected danger ahead. I should not have let you carry that torch flame!"

"Ghedlyn..." Rayanne managed to speak again. A fleck of dust whipped into her mouth, almost causing her to cough. The effort hurt terrifically, as if she had swallowed salt acid, but words somehow came more easily than before. "You must stop her. The girl..." she wheezed, "...will give us away..." _Or worse_, she did not add, _she might make a weave that actually does something_...

"You are gravely injured," Nordel told her, "we must tend your wounds immediately. We should have brought the caravan north... we should have remained with numbers..."

"Stop Ghedlyn from channeling," Rayanne managed to order him. A white-hot poker jabbed through her chest. Had the bolt moved?

"Ghedlyn?" Rayanne could feel Nordel's frustration at himself, but he immediately followed her directions, "Aes Sedai, her eyes are closed. I don't think she's hearing me. We have to stop and tend you."

"If she is still channeling... we cannot stop," Rayanne fumbled to hold herself upright in the saddle. "They might know where we are..."

"Ghedlyn, listen to Rayanne Sedai, please..." Rayanne could feel Nordel trying to shake the insensate girl with one hand while guiding Ragabash with his knees and holding Prancer's reins with the other hand.

"Ghedlyn!"

Suddenly, even lying like a sack of grain slung over the neck of Ragabash, Sildane filled with the light of the one power and channeled a single tiny thread of Fire at Ghedlyn, "Ghed, stop, please!"

Ghedlyn yelped. "Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no!" she wailed. _Saidar_ immediately winked out of her and the sprawling, meaningless web of power dissolved away like snow on a scorching griddle. No further lines of fire appeared through the grass. The building wind Rayanne had barely noticed abruptly died away and no more droplets of water or grains of dirt pelted them.

"Sildane..." Rayanne breathed. She thanked the creator and all that was light for Sildane. On attempting to take a deep breath, her head became light and she felt unbearably dizzy. Her hand slipped on the saddle and she nearly fell.

"Hold on!" Nordel shouted at Rayanne, "don't fall off, burn you!"


	31. Book 3: Chapter 6

Nordel brought the two horses to a skidding, whinnying halt and jumped clean off Ragabash. 

Ghedlyn could see practically nothing but swimming shadows.

She had made the same mistake all over again. Rayanne Sedai told her not to hold _saidar_. Actually, the Aes Sedai had demanded it in absolutely unmistakable terms. And still, Ghedlyn had failed.

She did not understand how such a simple task could become this kind of constant agony. She felt as if her skull were being squeezed. Working logic problems helped keep her thoughts away from the encroaching blindness and deafness that accompanied avoidance of _saidar_, but it was hardly enough. She would have better luck trying to keep from licking her lips when they were dry or stopping herself from scratching an itch on her nose. She did everything possible to place her focus elsewhere, but it would just inevitably be waiting for her. It stalked her like a jungle cat and hid in ambush. Without a wayward thought, the warmth of light would spring down onto her, ensnaring her and bringing the world to its usual clarity. And then it would already be too late. The moment reality came into focus was the instant the mistake was done.

Holding tight to Nordel, hidden beneath his cloak, fleeing pain, she had not even realized she was channeling. All she wanted was to be back at the farm, sitting in the dooryard, counting stones or grass or leaves on trees, or even playing one of the games she and Sildane had invented together. She wanted anything aside from riding a horse through the darkness, with or without torchlight. She did not particularly understand riding anyway; she would rather walk so she could see the dirt and leaves on the ground or touch the bark of trees on the way past. The only thing she fully understood was that the galloping horses meant the near possibility of pain. She really did not want to hurt so badly again. She did not want to die.

"Sildane?" Ghedlyn asked in a shaky voice, coming back to herself. She hugged the huge, leather-bound book to her chest.

Her friend lay over the neck of Ragabash, within arm's reach. She was weeping. Ragabash whickered and pawed the muddy earth two times.

Nordel had caught Rayanne off the other horse, "Blood and ashes, stay with me!"

"Sildane?" she ventured to ask again.

Her friend grabbed her leg, which startled her. Touch almost always startled her. "Ghed...? Are we stopped Ghed?"

"The horse does not move so much now, the horse does not," Ghedlyn answered. Sildane preferred not-so-exact answers when she asked questions, which was sometimes hard for Ghedlyn to figure out.

"Is Rayanne Sedai... okay?... Yiiiaaii!" Sildane tried to roll herself into a different position, and cried out upon accidentally jarring the bolt through her leg. Her hand squeezed Ghedlyn's thigh more tightly.

Ghedlyn did not know what to do about this. She had never seen real pain in another human being and it scared her all the more. She wanted badly to do something, but did not know what. She wanted to hide. Sildane was her friend; she wanted to help. She did not understand what to do.

Nordel suddenly seized Ghedlyn under the arms and dragged her down off Ragabash. "I need light now! I need you."

Ghedlyn squealed in fright, uncertain whether to kick or fight or go along with him. She held onto her book for all she was worth. The ragged sound of Nordel's usually kind voice, like some grave agent of oblivion, sent strokes of ice through her.

She found herself deposited on the ground next to Rayanne Sedai. Sildane cried out in agony as Nordel lay her down beside Ghedlyn. She could feel wetness of water chilling her legs and soaking into her cloak and dress.

"Ghedlyn, I need light now!" the warder grabbed hold of Ghedlyn's arm through her cloak. His fingers were a vice grip.

He frightened her so much. Sitting in mud, shaking to the soles of her feet, Ghedlyn's tongue totally deserted her. She often did not know how to answer when people spoke directly to her anyway, but this was much worse. She had never seen such intensity in gentle Nordel.

"Ghedlyn, Light!" Nordel demanded.

Shivering, tears running down her cheeks, Ghedlyn did not know what to do, "I- I- I- I- I-..."

"Light now!"

Finally a few words burst through the block and erupted from her mouth, wrenched free, "Rayanne Sedai said not, she said. Do not channel she said!" Her voice was so high pitched the words bled together into indistinction.

"Of all the..."

A ball of soft white light bloomed in the air over Ghedlyn's head, casting a weak glow off the warder's haggard face and shaven pate. Rayanne rested on her side panting on the ground, her eyes squeezed closed. Nearby, though her pale face remained wet with tears, Sildane looked up expectantly. Sildane had managed to catch hold of _saidar_ and projected a thready weave of Fire and Air. "Quickly," she gasped, "I cannot hold long."

Instantly letting go of Ghedlyn, Nordel turned his attention to Rayanne Sedai. Without a word, he tore open the shoulder of her dress and began to examine his Aes Sedai's injury.

Ghedlyn could hardly believe it. The dim flicker of light was weak channeling at best, but held together carefully and with skill. Ghedlyn's mouth opened and closed. She looked out into the night. She could not understand. Sildane was doing exactly what Rayanne Sedai instructed them not to do. She did not understand. Rayanne Sedai insisted. Every time Ghedlyn caught the source, that was bad. And Sildane had decided to channel now. Was it good? Ghedlyn did not understand. It was against order. It was against instruction. It was against harmony. It was, wasn't it? She did not comprehend. She pulled at her hair in confusion and then hugged the book against her body so tightly that it hurt.

Hunkered over Rayanne Sedai, Nordel produced a glass vial from one of his many pouches. He unstoppered the vial and wafted it beneath the Aes Sedai's nose. Though she breathed in short gasps, her chest jerked. Ghedlyn could smell the acrid odor emanating from the vial where she sat.

The Aes Sedai's eyelids fluttered momentarily, then flicked sharply open, "Where...?" she wheezed, trying to sit up.

"Easy," Nordel held her down. "I have to treat this wound!"

"No, they are close...," the words were mangled, but Rayanne Sedai forced them out through clenched teeth. Her ice blue eyes flashed, then went dull for a moment, "must ride now... they will catch us."

"You're bleeding badly," Nordel examined her shoulder, "that bolt shaft has to come out."

"No! No time to properly treat...!" Rayanne protested, weakly throwing off his hands, "might bleed out... lungs might collapse! Leave it in..."

Nordel threw up his hands in exasperation, "Then what in the bloody Light would you have me do?! You cannot expect to ride like this!"

"Ah... I- I'll be okay."

"Blood and ashes you will! Not like you can Heal yourself!" Nordel bit, "Does Ghedlyn know Healing?"

"No," Rayanne shook her head.

"Can she heal you?" he demanded.

"I am hurt... not stupid," Rayanne Sedai found the strength to grouse, almost sitting up before a grimace crossed her face and forced her to settle onto her side in pain, "She does not practice... weaves... as they are taught... She always changes them..." she gasped and nearly coughed, then stored up effort to continue, "If Ghedlyn practices Healing... someone might die... she must not learn that weave until she is much older."

Nordel visibly seized hold of himself, though his dark eyes continued to flash in anger and self-rebuke. "So Sildane will not know that weave either. But you cannot ride like this. What do you propose we do?"

"Must not stay here," Rayanne Sedai breathed, "a woman with them... might feel the channeling. Get me... frogleaf... morning willow..."

Nordel sprang to his feet and flew to Prancer. The horse, bleeding liberally down one leg, shied from him when he went to the saddle pack, but gave only a small whicker. The warder tore into the saddle pack and brought out a wad of paper envelopes. He selected several and brought them back to the Aes Sedai lying with the two girls in the dim light.

"Not so many Yellows look well on this herb thing. Frogleaf and Morning willow," he pressed a sprig of herb into Rayanne Sedai's good hand along with a strip of willow bark. "Keep you conscious and handle the pain?"

"That's the idea," she slurred, chewing both and swallowing painfully.

Ghedlyn counted the number of times her jaw moved before she finally swallowed. Twenty-one.

"Must ride," Rayanne Sedai insisted. She struggled to bring herself to her hands and knees. Blood stained the blond woman's golden braid along with mud from the roadside. "They will catch us. Must ride."

"Not like that," Nordel helped her into a sitting position, "and not with Sildane bleeding all over the place."

Rayanne Sedai turned like a wounded lion, searching out the girl who was channeling them all a globe of light, "Sildane...?"

"You first," Nordel said, stopping her from moving further. He ripped strips out of his plain cloak and began to pack the shreds around the shaft pierced through her body.

"Leave the bolt in for now," Rayanne Sedai instructed.

Nordel shook his head, continuing to build a compress around his Aes Sedai, "How long do you plan to last like that?"

"Till tomorrow... take it out at Alindaer..." she responded weakly.

Nordel shook his head, "Before we look for a boat I hope. Everybody will notice a woman with an ageless face who has a crossbow bolt sticking out of her."

"Can't bleed out here..." she hissed, "can't afford to drown if... I'm bleeding."

"Hold on," Nordel shook his head as he lifted Rayanne Sedai's arm enough to cause her to grimace hideously, then began to wind strips of cloth around her shoulder into her armpit and around the bolt shaft. She did not cry out, even though a tear fell down her pale cheek and her ice blue eyes rolled back.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on," Ghedlyn whispered to herself, "that far, no farther. Fifteen wraps, forty from the cloak." She tried to decide whether she should also embrace the source and supply light with Sildane. She glanced at her friend. Though Sildane's expression was one of suppressed pain, the bronze haired girl instantly saw her intent and shook her head "no."

The lanky warder, now looking more relaxed, finished tying the makeshift bandaging into place around Rayanne Sedai's shoulder. He carefully used another strip of cloth to bind the Aes Sedai's bad arm into place against her side to help immobilize the wound. "This cannot last for long."

"Not far to go," Rayanne breathed through clinched teeth. "Send Ghedlyn to... stand behind the horses."

"What?"

"Sildane," Rayanne sighed, "need to help Sildane."

Nordel immediately understood, "You're not planning to..."

"Ghedlyn... must not learn this weave."

Nordel sat for a moment, then nodded. Standing up, he caught Ghedlyn's hand, "Come on."

With her book clamped against her chest, Ghedlyn was pulled only half-willing to her feet. The warder marched her hand-in-hand around the tiny pool of light over behind Ragabash. He stooped until they were nose to nose. Ghedlyn did not want to look him in the eye.

"I want to you to hide your face against Ragabash's leg. Do not look under any circumstances," he told her.

Ghedlyn tried to glance away, but Nordel touched her chin and pulled her around to face him. She could smell tabacc on his breath, though he only rarely smoked a pipe. "Nod if you understand me."

Ghedlyn still did not meet his eye.

"You will not look," Nordel breathed in her face, "repeat it. Rayanne Sedai has you repeat it."

She managed to nod shakily, "not look, not look."

Then he was gone.

She could hear too much. She could hear pain. She pressed herself against Ragabash's side and did not look. Book beneath one arm, she pressed her free hand over her ear and pushed the other against the warm flesh of Ragabash's flank. The horse's heart thudded dully, lazily. But, She could still hear too much.

"Bite down on this, this will hurt," she heard Nordel say.

A moment later, Sildane screamed with more pain and agony than she had ever heard. It made her stomach lurch. She remembered her own pain. She did not want to hurt like that again. She pressed herself more tensely against the horse's side. The destrier did not move, though he gave a low whinny. She remembered splinters of wood exploding in her face and remembered willing the world to put itself between herself the source of a million tiny skewers about to pass through her body.

Sildane's screaming had decreased to wailing cries.

"Hold on,"

Ghedlyn felt Rayanne Sedai embrace the source. She felt the night grow taut, felt the heat. She could sense eddies in _saidar_ whipping around the horses. She imagined Rayanne Sedai running through her visualizations about flowers and sunlight and almost felt her pain and weakness. She sensed the Aes Sedai draw and knew how much she pulled in. She could feel the threads of power woven out when Rayanne Sedai began to channel. She could almost touch the twining of threads and could sense the gist of shape. Water and Air, maybe some Spirit. A few dozen intertwined... probably a twenty-one part structure with helical symmetry and eight or thirteen loose nodes. She thought up a number of basic weave patterns which would fall into the appropriate symmetry class. Her mind ran through the pragmatics such a weave would demand, how it would collapse and pull together with the coils and straggles of the age-lace. She thought through the sheering factors and began to predict physical-temporal outcomes...

Oh, how she wanted to look.


	32. Book 3: Chapter 7

Rayanne Sedai Healed Sildane after Nordel cut the broad-head off the crossbow bolt and pulled the remainder of the shaft free from Sildane's leg. Then, with Sildane hugging Ghedlyn and hiding her eyes, the Aes Sedai Healed Prancer while Nordel held the horse still. Rayanne Sedai needed help to stand and her use of the power did not improve her already tenuous health.

"We must... move," the wounded lion of an Aes Sedai insisted.

Sildane remained shaky after her own experience, but she no longer suffered at all. She kept touching her leg where the hole had been and marveling at the lack of even a scar. She felt no more pain, but her stomach began almost immediately to remind her of its lack of contents. Her brain swam at the ringing absence of the throbbing fire she had struggled to suppress mere moments before.

Nordel asked Sildane to make another ball of light so he could pack away a few of the herbs he had gotten out for Rayanne Sedai. He put a paper envelope in Sildane's hand, "If she needs it, keep these."

"Wh- what do you want me to do?" Sildane wondered timorously.

Nordel did not answer, instead handing her a large piece of cheese, "Eat this to settle your stomach. Keep the rest of this cloak in case she needs more bandaging."

"I don't..."

For the first time in all the years Sildane had known him, the lanky warder swept his color-shifting cloak onto his shoulders, "You will have to hold her while you ride. Just make certain she does not fall from the saddle. Put that light out."

Sildane released the source and struggled to follow the warder as he raced around the horses. She tripped on an unseen root. Ghedlyn was a dark spot in the night, kneeling beside Ragabash, apparently staring at her favorite book. Sildane nearly stumbled over her friend while asking, "What are we going to do?!"

"Run," the warder explained seriously, "before our attackers catch up to us and manage to put a crossbow bolt through one of your heads."

"Must leave... must move now..." Rayanne Sedai repeated, clinging to Prancer's saddle horn to prevent herself from collapsing. In the darkness, Sildane helped Nordel boost the injured Aes Sedai up into Prancer's saddle. Rayanne Sedai grunted in pain as she struggled to settle herself. Nordel pushed Sildane up into the saddle behind her and then dragged a limp Ghedlyn after him.

Both horses were cantering along the dark road bare moments later. Nordel held Prancer's reins and led off with Ragabash through the emptiness into the faint shadows cast by the sliver of moon.

"What are we going to do?" Sildane called to Nordel.

"Shhht!" Nordel hissed over his shoulder, barely audible against the thumping hooves of the two horses, "Bloody horses make enough noise, don't you add to it!"

"But...!" Sildane protested, struggling to make sense of everything swirling around her. She managed to contain herself, though she wanted to ask a thousand questions.

"We make for Tar Valon," the warder responded bitterly, "and hope this doesn't disturb our plans too greatly."

Sildane found herself straining her ears at the night around her, jumping at every minute, unexpected noise. A drip of water could as easily be the thrum of a snapping crossbow string. A chirping cricket could be the whispers of malevolent, invisible attackers. The wind rustling beside it all could be soft feet in grass or a blade drawn from a sheath. She willed her eyes to penetrate the darkness, but sufficed for the faint highlights and glimmers created by the moon. A swaying tree seemed to contain a crouched figure in its shadow.

With her fright leaping higher by the moment, Sildane tightened her grip around the blonde Aes Sedai mounted ahead of her until the woman grunted and twitched in pain. Sildane jerked back in surprise and murmured an apology. She could feel dampness on the back of her teacher's cloak, dampness around the steel broad-head that she dared not touch lest she hurt the gorgeous woman all-the-more. She knew Rayanne Sedai continued to seep blood and hoped they could make it as far as Tar Valon before she had none left to bleed. The crossroad was a solid day's travel from the city of the White Tower and Sildane hoped they could make the trip expediently enough.

"Why?" she asked quietly, uncertain if she even expected an answer, "why us?"

Rayanne Sedai gave a truncated exhalation that was almost a cough and whispered back, "Why what?...Please repeat the question..."

Sildane collected herself, surprised the woman had heard her. She tried to form the best question she could, "Why would someone try to kill us?"

"Not bandits for sure..." Rayanne breathed, "they hit me first... because they had to... knew they could not handle an Aes Sedai... if... I knew they were there."

"But, why at all?" Sildane asked, "why us?"

"Not us," Rayanne gasped, "her."

"Ghedlyn?"

The Aes Sedai nodded faintly.

"Did- did Ghedlyn make someone angry?" Sildane asked, struggling to keep her voice low and wrap her mind around what Rayanne Sedai had said. "Is it because she's so young and so strong with _saidar_? When the tree blew up and people were hurt, everybody who got hurt forgave her. They knew she didn't mean it. She never means to cause trouble. If even a fly bit her, she would never even swat it, she would hide from it. Why does anyone want to kill her?"

"That... my child," Rayanne breathed with difficulty, "is Sealed to The Seat..."

"What does that mean?"

"It is a... promise to the Amyrlin... not to speak of it... to anyone."

It occurred to Sildane for the first time the exact seriousness of this trip. She had understood some of the secrecy surrounding all the arrangements, but it never really sank in that her life was genuinely at risk. There were a number of hazards to women who could channel, which made it reasonable to move carefully under many circumstances, yet a direct threat against Ghedlyn's life in particular seemed impossible at best. Having known Ghedlyn for better than five years, Sildane thought of the other girl as nothing but... well... Ghedlyn --small, weak, withdrawn, easily overlooked, with a chiming singsong voice that could be silent some days, monotonous or strangely compassionate. Rayanne Sedai worried the girl would hurt herself channeling, or accidentally blow up another tree and hurt others, but Ghedlyn never threatened nor did anything to deliberately harm anyone. To a woman who could sense her channeling ability, she was weird and unsettlingly powerful. But, did her strangeness, both her weakness and her strength, mask something truly contemptible and dangerous?

Sildane digested an array of seditious thoughts as the night scrolled past them. Someone had attacked them with the intent to kill. She remembered the broad-head passing through her leg and could not help but shiver. Had the attackers hit Rayanne Sedai first because there was no choice? What would they have done if Rayanne had not been carrying a torch so they could see their target clearly? Everyone knew Aes Sedai could use the power to fight when their own lives or the lives of their warders were at stake, so whoever had attacked them could not avoid taking care of Rayanne Sedai first. Had the second bolt been meant for Ghedlyn?

What Ghedlyn understood or not about the world could be very difficult to guess. Sildane wondered whether Ghedlyn would comprehend the threat to her person in vague terms or specifically. She could be surprising at the depth of her insight and also at the extent of her ignorance. Sildane wondered how her friend would react if she realized the second bolt had been meant for her rather than Sildane.

"We have an opportunity..." Rayanne Sedai suddenly exclaimed loudly enough for Nordel to hear her. Sildane felt her heave the breath despite the bolt transfixing her body. She sounded grim, but clear somehow.

After a moment of silence, Nordel responded, "If you are thinking what I think you are," he had not turned his head to look back at them, "then you are completely insane."

The Aes Sedai labored to breathe for a few moments before continuing with her train of thought. Sildane could feel her stiffen and lurch in pain as she spoke, "We agreed the Tree... was an attempt at Ghedlyn..."

Sildane felt a thrill of fear pass through her. She had always thought the exploding tree had been Ghedlyn's fault; Rayanne Sedai had never said to her otherwise and Ghedlyn, of course, never said anything about it all, except to proclaim how much the incident had hurt and that she didn't want to die.

"...if this also was an attempt," she seized the saddle horn, the sound of her voice wracked, "...maybe we can determine... who ordered her death."

"And," the warder interpreted, "you want me to go ask them."

"Yes," Rayanne Sedai gasped shortly.

The warder was silent. Sildane could see in the dim light that his back had become preternaturally straight. His voice was warmed over death, "If there are more men waiting in an ambush ahead, you're exhausted, you have two girls with you to protect and you are seriously injured. They will kill you."

"We can survive it..." wheezed Rayanne, "both girls can link... 'sides, I need only weave Lightning or a Fireball once... to arm Ghedlyn... and Sildane learns quickly enough."

"I thought the idea was to avoid teaching Ghedlyn anything she might turn around and accidentally kill someone with," Nordel grumbled.

Rayanne Sedai did not immediately answer. Finally, she managed, "To keep her alive... I would teach anything."


	33. Book 3: Chapter 8

Noise from the two horses faded and retreated away, absorbed into the shifting sounds of deep night. Soon, crickets chirped more loudly. The tall, lanky warder stood stock still at the side of the roadway, allowing the wind to tease his color-shifting cloak around his ankles. He was naught but another of the mingling shadows. Starlights glinting in the blackened sky were barely challenged by the weak crescent of the moon. 

He did not like it. His Aes Sedai languished as a ball of agony in the back of his mind. He could point the way to her and tell exactly how far to reach her. Had she not threatened to use their bond to compel him, he would have refused this foolishness. She needed him, as much as she tried to deny it. Rayanne's strength was finite and dwindling, despite her pride. If the injury turned sour, she might not last through the day to reach Alindaer. The bolt would need to come out soon. Sildane was a caring girl and Ghedlyn would be helpful after a fashion, but neither one of them could provide the care she needed. She needed to be Healed as soon as possible without any distractions along the way.

This was insanity.

Such a beautiful night to be so marred. He loosened his sword and settled his harp against his side.

Rather than stalking off the road to try to hide among the sparse vegetation or making his way back in the direction where the ambush occurred, the warder opened up his color-shifting cloak and sat down slowly on a knee-high rock to wait among the grasses at roadside. He adjusted his sword on his hip and stretched out his legs. He pulled a striking flint and tinder from one of his hip pouches, then set to stuffing his pipe. Since the habit effected his breathing, Nordel rarely smoked, but he was not above a pinch now and again. He soon had some fine Two-Rivers Tabacc smoldering in the pipe-bowl and set to sucking the stem. A wisp of smoke accompanied his exhalation.

The warder hummed brokenly to himself as he puffed the pipe. He brought out his harp and idly tuned it, plucking strings for their sound before tightening screws.

It would not be long, he knew.

He strummed out a little tune and puffed and hummed.

The wind raced across the grasses. A lone cloud teased the lunar crescent before scudding away among the stars. The crickets at first retreated from the twanging of the harp before resuming their song in earnest and harmonizing with the warder's instrument.

He could feel Rayanne growing farther away. Her hurt had not diminished. He hoped Ghedlyn proved worth all this trouble. He did not want to think about what would happen if Rayanne died of her injury. He knew that if another ambush waited somewhere yet ahead, Rayanne would probably not survive it.

The hoot of an owl floated over the grasses.

He heard the horses only a moment later. A snorting preceded them and a stifled whinny.

Nordel tensed. He tweaked a screw in and out a bit, then gently plucked the string a few times to hear the note. Still a little off. Variations in the temperature wreaked havoc with the instrument's sound.

He could make out the heavy thumping of approaching hooves. Three animals he guessed, with probably one rider to each. If they were mounted, he could handle three easily if he got in close. They were in no great hurry. The warder wondered why they were lagging. If these were the attackers, they would need to move much faster to overtake Rayanne, even with the time lost when Nordel stopped the horses to treat the party's wounds.

Idly, Nordel brushed his fingers across the harp strings and listened to the chord. His lowest note was still drifting too high in pitch. He switched the stem of his pipe to the other corner of his mouth and adjusted the tension of the appropriate screw.

Nordel knew from the exclamation of surprise among the riders that he had finally been noticed. They rode without torchlight, much like Rayanne and the girls, so Nordel could only distinguish the shadowed shapes of horses with men on their backs. He knew they, in turn, could see the point of light from his pipe and probably heard his harp and humming. He also knew his color-shifting cloak appeared like nearly any other cloak in the dead of night, though they might suspect something if they saw it too closely under the weak moon. At the moment, Nordel did not care. He did not feel so much like playing music. This night, he felt more like dancing, and not with a woman.

Their horses at a walk, the riders spoke amongst themselves while they drew abreast the warder and pulled to a halt. Nordel could smell the scent of horse and hay. There were other odors too, human odors of drink and urine and sweat. The man who spoke first had a bawdy Lugard accent, "You there, harper, see a pair of horses come this way?"

Nordel immediately refined his opinion of the men; either sell-swords or Dark Friends, perhaps with military experience, though as likely without. Not likely Whitecloaks. "Two horses come this way?" Nordel asked, leisurely twanging a string on his harp, then strumming a chord. "Depends on who's asked?"

Nordel saw the faint glimmer of a coin flickering through the air and barely put a hand up to catch it. "Does not so much matter who's asking, would you agree? Two horses, one with two riders, both women, and the other a big horse with a man."

"I seen many horses," Nordel responded around his pipe, "Been walking for days, you know. Many wagons, many horses, many riders. This is the way to the Aes Sedai's city, you know?"

"I mean just recently," the man said, sitting up straighter on his horse, "Two horses at a gallop in the dead night. Hard to miss that. Dark One's own luck if they managed not to stumble into the wash off the side of this road."

"Hmm," Nordel drawled, "I might have seen such horses..."

"Toy with me at your risk, harper," the man was growing angry, "to see something like that, you either did or did not. We know they came along this road."

Nordel set his harp aside and carefully stood, not too quickly. Raising his hands in a placating gesture, he took a slow step, then another toward the men sitting their horses, "Easy there friend. Been a long night for me; almost got run down by a wool-headed idiot with a cart," he eased forward a step, two steps, moving very gently, "then nearly got trampled by a fellow on a horse, not yet even an hour past. Set down to take a break, you know. It can be dangerous walking at night. Or dangerous riding. Figured to take a spell to tune my harp, maybe warn away whatever vicious animals stalk this prairie-land."

"The man who near run you down," put in the fellow on the closest horse, "Could you tell the color of his mount?"

Measuring to the hulking shadows with his eyes, Nordel judged the distance to the riders by the number of paces he had come. He was positive these were the attackers. The middle one carried a cocked and loaded crossbow, ready to lift and fire at a moment's notice, but the other two did not hold obvious weapons. It was difficult to be certain in the dark. Why they asked after three riders rather than four, he did not know, though he supposed they may not have been able to see Ghedlyn in the torchlight. "It might well have been light colored. Cream, tan, maybe white. Hard to say when you are scrambling out from under it this late at night." He noted how far down the horses' sides the men's stirrups lay and tried to judge the locations of saddle straps. He needed only a few more moments. The warder slid an additional step forward.

"Could there have been another horse following this rider?"

"I really was not looking that closely," Nordel told the man, judging with his ears the height of his opponent's head. "When you're worried about your skull being split like a ripe melon beneath iron-shod hooves, there are a few seconds of life when you are not exactly watching out around you."

Nordel's double-edge straight sword came free of its scabbard with hardly a noise and not a glint in the feeble moonlight. The nearest rider never even saw him move. He flicked out with a surgical precision worthy of the warder of a sister in Yellow and caught the faintest resistance with the tip of his blade. Seeing the man's shadow jerk back as if slapped across the face and hearing him emit something almost a cough, Nordel allowed himself the tiniest instant of self-satisfaction. Even that cut was not suitable recompense for a crossbow bolt from the darkness lodged in _his_ Aes Sedai.

The man on the nearest horse hardly began to sway as Nordel lunged around the first animal to face the second. The crossbow wielder perched in the saddle of the next horse had barely registered confusion at the odd noise made by his companion when Nordel struck. Instead of wasting precious time trying to separate the shadows of the man and horse, Nordel ducked beneath the horse's snout and thrust straight with the tip of his sword into the chest of the animal. The blade sank all the way to its guard in the soft spot at the base of the horse's neck between its two front legs, just above its ribcage. His pipe still clenched in the corner of his mouth, Nordel tipped the razor sharp double-edge up and down and slipped the slender sword tenderly free without pausing to contemplate his handiwork.

The last horseman had begun to withdrawal, aware something was amiss just as the dying horse began to squeal like a stuck pig and one of his companions gave a panicked cry, "Hali... Padget...?!" Nordel advanced several long strides toward the backpedaling horse, heard the whinny and barely managed to duck just as he felt the wind on his face from the flailing hooves of the rearing beast. He could see the massive shadow loom up as the horse extended away. If he advanced enough for a killing shot now, the massive animal would crush him as it fell. Instead, he judged the location of the saddle belt and made a quick upward incision with the heaven edge of his straight-sword held at full arm's reach. He knew by the bite that the razor-edged blade passed through cured leather and living horseflesh equally and adjusted automatically to defend himself from a wayward hoof. Nordel leaped back in full retreat as those fore-hooves came thundering down with the horse immediately squalling and kicking and bucking.

The first man the warder attacked crumpled forward on his mount as his horse shied off the side of the road. The second man gave a frightened shout as his dying animal hit the ground in spasms before rolling over him. The final man found himself deposited neatly on the roadway, still sitting in his saddle, with his horse bucking away like an untamed bronco after his saddle strap inexplicably broke.

Nordel tripped on a pothole he had not seen in the dark as he scrambled away from the kicking, flailing animal, landed momentarily on his knees, then forced himself afoot and away.

The shadowy figure sitting in the roadway behind the bucking horse began to move almost immediately, recovering more quickly than the warder would have credited. Nordel thought briefly about killing the man outright and saving himself the trouble, but knew this entire enterprise would be wasted if he did not have at least one person to put to the question.

A twinge at the base of his spine warned the warder that he had been too still a moment too long. He dodged back in that split instant following instinct when a crack of metal on metal issued from the shadow and a touch of fire brushed across his cheekbone and nicked the tip of his ear. Nordel knew a crossbow bolt by smell. Two of the riders had been carrying the cursed weapons!

The horse crashed up and down and finally off the side of the road where it squealed in fright when caught by unseen brush or brambles. With the looming and deadly animal finally out of the way, Nordel had a clear path to the man on the ground, who was struggling up quickly. The warder swept in like an avenging spirit, smacked the crossbow away with the tip of his blade and kicked the low shadow in what might have been the side of the head with a heavy boot. The man gave a cry of pain and sprawled out in the road.

Dropping his sword, Nordel landed on him with a flying leap. The warder rapidly rode his opponent flat to the ground and ended up astride the man, pressing his face into the mud. Though he fought back aggressively, the man was no match for a trained warder. In a tryst, Nordel had his enemy's arms twisted behind his back and locked them there with his knee. The man grunted and squirmed and tried to kick, but Nordel had the better of him.

"Dark One take you!..." the man spat into the dirt.

"He might yet," Nordel agreed. He took his smoldering pipe from the corner of his mouth and upended the glowing dottle on the back of the man's neck. The fellow jerked and grunted and nearly cried out. Nordel ignored the sounds and bent to breathe in the man's ear, "Now then, I suppose it would be no great surprise to you that I was the man riding that great white horse when one of you fools put a crossbow bolt in my mistress."

"The warder," the man hissed.

Nordel gave a scoff, "Yeah, I am _that_ warder. Now, you are going to tell me in painful detail why three such idiots as yourself would be camped out on a roadway in the middle of the night looking to put a bolt in an Aes Sedai."

"Three," the man laughed then coughed into the mud, "Try thirty, or fifty. Me and Padget and Col just found her first is all. Too bad she didn't just die and fall off the horse with the girl when we hit her; chasing her too hard might get _us_ killed too."

"If there were thirty out here, we'd be tripping over you," Nordel corrected him, "try again." He scrabbled with his free hand as far as he could in the dark to find his sword, "My blade is quite thirsty and I'm deciding where to start cutting."

"I would be amazed if there were less than a hundred out here tonight," the man said, "The size of the purse on that little girl's head could feed Caemlyn until the Dragon is Reborn."

"Purse, you say?" Nordel felt a chill pass through him that had nothing to do with the nighttime cool.

"Anybody out on this road tonight or tomorrow with any little girl is asking to die."


	34. Book 3: Chapter 9

Despite her pain, Rayanne felt her warder's sudden alarm. His lethal anger up to the moment before transformed into a deep, resounding dread. She wondered if she would feel him die in the next few heartbeats, but knew he remained uninjured. She realized that his persistent concern for her well being had also heightened to an acute thrill. 

She caught her breath.

Very few things in this world truly frightened Nordel. He had an easy, laconic way about him, often quick to laugh and worldly and patient. His anger was rare and this form of dread even more so.

The crossbow bolt through her shoulder continued to throb horribly, jabbing a dagger into her lungs and down her side every time she breathed, but she found herself forgetting it. The darkness around them, still hours short of morning, took on the weight of a lead curtain.

Sildane continued Nordel's job driving the horses with one arm wrapped around Rayanne to hold Prancer's reins while pulling Ragabash behind them with the other. The girl breathed raggedly and quickly in Rayanne's ear, her fear evident, but she had not spoken since Nordel left. Rayanne expected that her older apprentice was desperately worried about making some accidental blunder. Unlike Ghedlyn, who demonstrated nothing resembling an ego beyond blithely continuing to exist, Sildane's confidence in herself came and went like a kicked puppy. Behind them, Ghedlyn sat in a heap atop Ragabash's high saddle, barely more than a stationary lump in the darkness. She had not moved nor uttered a single noise since Nordel dumped her there. Rayanne wondered what might be spiraling through her uniquely hinged mind.

Sildane kept the horses at a quick trot through the starry night and had heeded Nordel's instructions to let Prancer, trained to ride in all manner of conditions, find the best footing along the packed roadbed. Every so often, vegetation whipped past their legs or Prancer would lurch on an uncertain surface, but they remained at a quick pace headed north. While Nordel had said he would catch up to them, and Rayanne knew he would, she felt increasingly naked without his solid presence riding right there beside them. He remained alive, in one piece, but the feeling of his horror continued to escalate.

She could not help but be infected by it. With a shaking hand, she touched Sildane's forearm.

"What is it?" Sildane suddenly asked, sensing Rayanne's alarm. "What's wrong?"

The darkness ahead of them, wrought with faint, wavering shadows cast by the near new moon yawned and rustled. Rayanne breathed the chill, damp air, tasted the pungence of night-blooming lilies and felt the draft of wind massaging her blood-crusted hair. She felt something else; an indeterminate, senseless quality that reminded her of an ant crawling along her arm. She could not bring herself to speak right away. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. A deep, thoughtless portion of her heart pumped wave after wave of lasting fright into her arteries so strongly that it made her breathing short.

"Are you okay? Do you-- do you need more herbs?" asked Sildane, quivering to the core. Rayanne could tell that the girl desperately wanted to be told that nothing was amiss.

The horses continued, their huge foot strokes echoing off night-shrouded rocks and trees. Sildane had unconsciously drawn Prancer back to a walk. The blackness seemed to inhale.

If they went any farther, Rayanne knew for certain that they would die.

"Stop, stop," she whispered to Sildane.

Sildane drew Prancer to a halt. Ragabash, never too happy at being dragged anywhere, slowed until he was beside them and passing before he conceded that since his lead had stopped, he would also.

"Aes Sedai?" Sildane pressed in urgent fear.

Rayanne fought the impulse to find the comfort of _saidar_. The one power was their only tool and weapon. If she opened up to it now, she might be able to face whatever lay ahead. If she opened up to it, would an unknown channeling woman with some Tower training be waiting to fight her and kill the two girls? With her injury, Rayanne knew she would never be up to a fight with the power, especially since many other female channelers were stronger than she. In the short term, she could be effective with a few strokes of lightning, but that was well away from her area of skill and exhausted her quickly. Even further, would it be wise to weave anything like a bolt of lightning where Ghedlyn would see it? She shuddered at that thought. The girl would probably be able to lob powerful bolts all night without tiring and whatever weave she finally mutated lightning into would be something Rayanne really did not want to witness. Ghedlyn wielding lightning would be akin to setting a hungry Trolloc loose in a caravan of Tinkers. Such a weave in her hands might make the girls safe, but the world itself would never be the same. Rayanne had told Nordel she would arm the girls if there were no choice, but the very act would also be irresponsible and irreversible.

"What? What?" Sildane asked again, her timbre climbing toward panic. The danger of their situation was not lost on her.

"I- I..." Rayanne twisted her thoughts around surging emotions. An Aes Sedai is cool in the face of danger. An Aes Sedai is serenity. She took a breath to steady herself. The pain of her injury and her loss of blood weighed heavily on her ability to function. "We cannot go further," she managed, then took another steadying, side-piercing breath, "Take... take us off... off the side of the road..."

Checking first that Rayanne could support her own weight sitting up, Sildane slid out of the saddle and, tripping and stumbling over difficult brush, lead the two horses off the roadway. Grass and twigs crunched beneath hooves. Ghedlyn remained an unmoving lump on Ragabash's back. Rayanne felt cool grasses sliding past her legs. A tree loomed as a tall, imposing a void that blocked a swath of stars in the sky behind it.

"Farther," Rayanne instructed in an urgent whisper, waving Sildane onward with her good hand. Rayanne did not know or care if the girl could even see the gesture in the dark. "Go farther."

Sildane drew the two horses over around the tree where the ground began to dip downward into a shallow gully that contained a gurgling stream. The girl tripped twice and Prancer neighed in exasperation when Sildane caught herself by holding tight to the reins connected to the horse's mouth bit. Ragabash whickered and stomped. "Sorry... sorry!" Sildane broke out, caught between apologies and attempting to soothe the horse, "I can't see where I'm going. If I had some light..."

"No channeling," Rayanne instructed her. She gasped as another wave of pain that washed over her when she spoke the words. "Help me down... please."

"But..." Sildane struggled up the incline beside the horse, feeling her way with out-stretched arms, "but Nordel wanted us to keep going."

"We have to hide," Rayanne insisted to her without elaborating. "We cannot stay on the road..."

Sildane reached up an arm to support her as she tried to dismount, but Rayanne cried out in pain and nearly fell before Sildane guided her safely off the horse. Though she was uncomfortably a head and a half taller than the girl, all Rayanne could do for a long minute was hug Sildane with all of her dwindling strength and hope that the world stopped spinning over and over before they were forced to move. She hoped no one had been near enough on the road to hear her cry.

"Help..." the Aes Sedai drew another agonized breath to try to stabilize herself, "help Ghedlyn down, now."

"Aes Sedai, she's here already," Sildane told her.

Ghedlyn stood nearby, noiselessly, shivering visibly even in the almost non-existent light. She had managed to dismount Ragabash unaided.

Sildane guided both horses down a little farther into the gully, but the crooked trickle of a stream had carved no greater shelter than half the height of a person. In broad daylight, both horses would be fully visible. Rayanne hoped they would not have to stay in this hiding spot for that long.

She could feel Nordel on his way at last. Somehow, he had acquired another horse and was working northward from where they had left him as quickly as he was able. Though not a huge distance separated them, Rayanne worried that maybe they were too far apart already.

Sildane guided Rayanne in near to the lone tree and helped her gingerly sit back against the rough-skinned bark. Ghedlyn crouched nearby silently, bundled in her cloak as if fending off borderlands cold in the dead of winter.

"Ghed..." Sildane crawled around Rayanne and moved to hug her friend, "...don't cry."

"Shh," Rayanne warned them both. The two horses standing in the gully below them had perked up and were obviously listening to the sounds of the night.

Rayanne could almost feel Sildane hug Ghedlyn all the harder in the baited breath that followed. They stared around the tree and search the dark with unseeing eyes, hoping for some warning of something, anything. Ragabash gave a hardy snuffle that Rayanne wished would carry no farther than absolutely possible. Should they have actually crossed the shallow stream rather than stopping at its bank? Farther from the road would be better.

Heavy hoof strokes and the crack of a tree branch echoed through the night. Chirping crickets went silent and only the wind dared make a sound. The meandering glow of an oil lantern cast dismal lines of light from a distance. Ducking back sharply enough to cause herself considerable pain, Rayanne flattened herself against the tree trunk and hoped the thickness of the night would protect them. Seven or eight men walking their horses made their way steadily along the road headed south. The men were plainly visible by the light they carried with only the sparse trees and rolling hills of grass for cover. Sildane had dragged Ghedlyn flat to the ground and the two girls lay with their eyes tightly closed. Rayanne held her breath. The men carried swords and bows ready for use in the lazy manner of cutthroats everywhere from the Blightborder and the Spine of the World clear to the Sea of Storms or the Aryth Ocean. If Ragabash or Prancer made a noise now, she and the two girls would probably all be found. At her very best, eight armed men would be a challenge, and without access to tricks that were beyond her at the moment, she just did not know.

Rayanne fought the urge to embrace _saidar_. She had not seen any women among the thugs. Having the extra degree of advantage would be helpful, though it would not be so safe if it led to their discovery.

The thugs made their way past, barking laughter and curses at one another in haphazard fashion. The light they brought swung up and down with the hoof-steps of the horses. Slowly, the lantern beams shifted and traced across the grasses and the shadows steadily began to lengthen again. The jangle of riding tack receded and echoed as the horse hooves steadily softened. A man laughed when another man sneezed but no voices drew near enough for the words of their course conversations to ring clear. "...Bloody fool!!..." one thug bellowed and the others laughed as they rode on.

Rayanne allowed herself the luxury of a breath, even a painful breath, as the night darkened again.


	35. Book 3: Chapter 10

Nordel sauntered out of the misty gray just before the sun broke the eastern horizon. The very tip-top of the Dragonmount was just beginning to catch red sunlight when he appeared, leading a piebald horse apparently of poor stock. He reached the spot in the road closest their hiding place and turned promptly toward them. His color-shifting cloak merged with the floating mists, blurring the warder's outline into everything behind him. 

"Broke my bloody harp," he announced flatly when he reached them.

Sildane had not slept. She continued to hold Ghedlyn where they lay sheltered behind the tree and together they had passed the hour or two before the warder arrived afraid to either breathe or stretch a limb. More parties of men had passed in the night; some afoot, some on horses and some with dogs. Some carried lantern lights while others passed cursing and swearing in the dark. All were armed. The threat of discovery loomed with every passing moment. Sildane had been trying to decide how best to make a ball of light with the one power big enough to burn an adult man, but she could not quite puzzle out how best to form the weave. Fortunately, the need to fight never did manifest.

Rayanne Sedai lulled with her back against the tree, propped to watch the road as well as she could even with the huge spot of blood spread across the front of her cloak and dress. The sheer lines of her face had grown deeper and her cheeks appeared hollow and bloodless. But, her ice blue eyes remained lucid and determined, if deeply exhausted. Her ageless face might have been a hundred years old.

"We have to move," Nordel exclaimed, releasing the reins of the horse he had borrowed. "There is little time."

"Took... took the grand tour coming back... did you?" Rayanne Sedai growled at him. She managed through visible act of will to hold her words together distinctly, "We have been stuck here... here now for at least an hour."

"The unfortunate opportunity to detour into a marsh presented itself to me," answered the warder snidely, "It was that or take a misstep into twenty cutthroats busy chopping each other to pieces."

"Then they... are looking for us?"

Nordel dragged the haggard Aes Sedai to her feet gently, "Best we not discuss it just now," he gave a covert glance toward Ghedlyn and Sildane which Sildane could hardly miss. "Suffice it to say, they are willing even to kill each other for the dubious honor of hunting you. Luckily for me a solitary man is hardly worth note. We cannot take the road north to Alindaer. We would not make it a mile in daylight."

The Aes Sedai nodded exhaustedly as Nordel led her toward the horses, "What do you suggest instead?"

"We ride east for the river Erinin, then hope for a barge or river ship captain who will sell us passage north. On the river, we will be able to avoid problems possible in the bridge towns by going straight to the port." Nordel pushed Rayanne Sedai toward Ragabash instead of Prancer.

"What? I can ride!" she protested, tripped over a root and weakly cried out in pain.

Sildane could hardly take her eyes off the condemning crossbow bolt that still protruded from her teacher's shoulder while she helped a rheumy-eyed, puffy-faced Ghedlyn to her feet. Ghedlyn pawed her black eyes with the heel of one fist and clutched her favorite book more closely to her side. The silky raven-haired girl had cried practically the entire time she and Sildane lay on the ground, though her sobs never became anything but the heaving of her chest.

"I can... I can ride Prancer!" Rayanne Sedai could barely break away from Nordel.

The shaven headed warder with the cruel face and warm brown eyes caught the Aes Sedai and shook his head, "Not a bloody chance, woman! Ghedlyn and Sildane will ride Prancer. You are with me!"

Rayanne Sedai obviously lacked a ghost of the spirit necessary to fight him, sagging instead in his arms when he began to lift her onto the tall white horse.

"Heading east from here," Nordel continued, "we should hit the flood plain of the Erinin in no time at all, and then the going will be at least as easy as riding this light-forsaken road."

He saw to Sildane and Ghedlyn only close enough to make certain that they two remained uninjured before returning his attention to Rayanne Sedai.

Once they were all mounted on Ragabash and Prancer, Nordel turned loose the wreck of a horse he had arrived with and lead off to the east. The two horses splashed across the shallow stream that had formed one side of their hiding spot during the night, "Follow me, Sildane. Try not to keep too tight a rein on Prancer; she'll know the best footing if the passage grows soft or marshy."

As he led the way, Sildane thought she heard him utter the words, "Cannot believe I broke my bloody harp..."

In patches where the spring rains had been especially good, verdant grass already stood nearly to the two horses' thighs. Low hills like rolling waves on some vast, tumultuous sea carried off toward where the sun eased itself into the sky. Trees surmounted knolls here and there, though the land mostly opened wide. Before the sun even reached its midday peak, the hilly aspect of the prairie flattened noticeably.

Nordel pushed them at a punishing pace, intent on putting the road far behind them before they even had lengthening shadows at the arrival of morning. Sildane could not help but look over her shoulder often in fear of seeing some dark, brooding man leveling a crossbow at her back. In those moments, the terror of suddenly finding herself impaled through the leg by a broadhead shaft would remind itself to her as if the trauma had just occurred. Despite the warder's urgency, the brush and grasses yielded only stubbornly to the two horses and passage was sluggish compared to how it had been on the road before the attack. Sildane found herself breathing out a sigh of relief when rolling hills finally hid the road from sight behind them.

Exhausted, her dark eyes drawn and slung with bags, her face puffy from crying, Ghedlyn nodded in and out of sleep. Sildane several times kept her from falling out of Prancer's saddle with an arm around her waist. At least she managed to avoid any further slips of drawing on _saidar_. Sildane was also bone-tired, though fear continued to surge through her veins; the charge no longer gave her coherence, but her hands would not stop shaking and she was fully alert.

Rayanne Sedai and Nordel spoke often and urgently. They kept their voices low enough that Sildane could not make out their words. She was not at all certain she wanted to know what they were talking about anyway. She knew the danger to her own life and really did not want to learn any more details.

Twisting trees began to appear with the softened land and cattails were beginning to put up their bristles among swards of greenery. Clouds never quite built enough through the day to rain on them again. The sun hung low behind them when Nordel brought them to a stop.

"No farther," the warder announced, swinging down from Ragabash and then turning to help Rayanne Sedai. "Some of these lands are too wet with the river near," he declared, "traveling at night, we risk stumbling into a mire."

"Will they have... have pursued us?" Rayanne Sedai asked. She remained lucid, but she had weakened throughout the day. She could barely hold up her chin.

Nordel shook his head, "Hard to say, but I have seen no signs of activity since we left the road. Regardless, this will be the best place to wait out the night. We might hit the Erinin mid-morning tomorrow. Aes Sedai, that bloody crossbow bolt must come out. Now. I can smell that injury turning sour and it will be best to draw the shaft while there is still some light."

The blond Aes Sedai could not summon the strength to argue. She was too weak to stand on her own feet and needed to be borne to the ground.

After getting Ghedlyn settled, Sildane found herself pressed into service helping Nordel. Ghedlyn, having been silent the entire day, curled up in her cloak at the base of a squat tree and immediately fell fast asleep.

Rayanne Sedai did not even have the strength to cry out in pain as they worked on her -having reached her limit, her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out almost before they began. Nordel cut the bodice of her dress and bandaging away to expose where the shaft met bloody, blackening skin. He cut the triangular head off the bolt and then carefully began to draw out the shaft. After a day spent embedded in the Aes Sedai's flesh, the wood of the bolt clung to the woman and the warder needed to cut into the injury with his dagger to help get it free. Nordel cut into her even after the shaft was out and had Sildane channel a globe of light to help fend off the darkness that impinged steadily around them. Sildane felt sick to the stomach and ended up vomiting once at the sight of Nordel's work, but she did as he asked, helping to clean the injury with brandy-soaked rags he made her cut from her own cloak. The ball of light she channeled wavered only once throughout. Sildane could not help but be impressed with the warder's deftness using a needle and thread stolen from a small embroidery kit Rayanne Sedai carried to sew closed the edges of the wound. Once he finished, the injury still bled in tiny streams, but not as fulminantly as when he first freed the bolt-shaft.

Once they had completely re-bandaged Rayanne Sedai, mainly using remnants of Sildane's cloak, the bronze-haired girl ended up sitting beside a sleeping Ghedlyn on the roots of the squat tree. Sildane released the joy of _saidar_ with regret, finally facing her own exhaustion, and allowed darkness to fall on their tiny campsite. She had not realized until this day how well embracing the _saidar_ kept weariness at bay. She also could not believe it was night again already. "Cold," she whispered, shivering without her cloak and hugging herself.

Nordel swept his color-shifting cloak over the shivering girl, then gave her a piece of sausage and a waterskin taken from Ragabash's saddlepack. He ruffled her hair, "Eat that, then get to sleep. You did beautifully, child. Your hands will be useful on a battlefield, someday."

"Do you think she'll live?" Sildane asked. Taking a bite of the sausage, her stomach suddenly screamed to life and demanded more. A few gulps of water from the skin helped to cool the hunger. Nordel had passed her and Ghedlyn bites of cheese and sausage while they rode throughout the day, but Sildane had been too frightened to think about it.

There was a long spell of silence from the warder while he checked both Ragabash and Prancer, who stood idly by, aware they were being given a chance to rest. "She breathes and continues to breathe," he deigned to answer at last. "Sleep while you can; pursuit is not close now, but we may be unable to stay here the entire night."

"But, what if..." Sildane began to protest.

"Enough," Nordel cut her off with an uncharacteristic brusqueness, "we have to make it to the Erinin tomorrow, or not at all. I need you rested." His voice gentled, "If we can flag down a boat, there will be some time to rest before we make port at the South Harbor of Tar Valon. It is to our benefit that most river traffic skips the bridge towns and goes straight to Tar Valon. Now, please rest so you can be of use to me with Rayanne and Ghedlyn in the morning."

When she attempted to follow his instructions, Sildane ended up tossing and turning in the sweat-stained cloak, unable to make herself comfortable on the bumpy ground. She saw Nordel checking out both of the horses and heard him walking back and forth around their camp. Her mind kept turning over somewhere between outright fear, apprehension, concern for Rayanne Sedai and worry about the future such that she could not tell if she had ever quite drifted to sleep, even though she felt so tired that she could hardly keep her eyes open any more than Ghedlyn had.

At one point, as she drifted more on the edge of unconsciousness, she heard Ghedlyn murmur in her sleep, "...no unfilled degrees of freedom. No degrees... mama..."

Sildane remembered a glimpse of the sky before recollection finally deserted her. Stars twinkled down through the branches of the tree above them, as if falling like snow, as if sucked into an absence of wind. Twinkles of light.


	36. Book 3: Chapter 11

Ghedlyn felt like she was about to explode. The weight on her brain demanded all of her attention. Logic problems no longer consumed enough of her mental appetite to suppress the powerful compulsion. _Saidar_ called to basest part of her, reaching through her into the deepest recesses of her waking soul.

But, she could not answer it. She would not answer it. Answering was the mistake!

"Hold on," Sildane told her, "Another bump here." Prancer followed Ragabash down into a mud-caked gully and back up the other side, rasping through a baffle of solid greenery that left them soaked. Sildane sat behind Ghedlyn in the saddle and kept an arm around her, but Ghedlyn hardly noticed.

Occupied internally, she sat mute and vacant. Her black eyes stared out over the vista of wetland trees and marsh without sight. She did not marvel at the wide crescent lakes cluttered with peat mats or at the foraging deer startled by the two horses in passing. The three deer with white rumps and the tiniest antler nubs pranced away with white tails standing high as if the hidden furrows and deceptive stands of vegetation were nothing to them, but Ghedlyn did not see them.

She had counted each and every second since she awoke that morning to the feeling that she was being physically squashed into the ground. She had passed nineteen thousand nine hundred and was well on toward twenty thousand before she even knew it. She forced herself to continue counting just to keep occupied. Anything to direct her mind away from the spreading weight that seized her to the bone and threatened to drop itself on top of her.

Rayanne Sedai ordered her not to embrace _saidar_. Rayanne Sedai said it and reminded her and repeated it until the idea finally leached into her dreams. And Ghedlyn had still gotten it wrong. She did not want to fail now. Do not do it again! Do not embrace it! While she counted, Ghedlyn reminded herself over and over continuously how angry her Aes Sedai teacher would be if she slipped up and accidentally embraced the source again.

"Another bump, Ghed," Sildane whispered in her ear.

She blanked out minutes at a time in sheer effort, counting and counting and counting. Every moment the weight became heavier, dragging into her and pushing at her. The glow of it lingered at the corner of her vision, something that she would inevitably see if she so much as turned her head. It would leap into her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to look. Oh, how she wanted to feel the touch and scent and texture. Each instant, the pause between the lubbing and dubbing of her heart muscle drew out longer and longer as if time itself were slowing down. She was so close to her absolute limit. She needed _saidar_; she needed to channel.

"I hope Rayanne Sedai will be okay," Sildane exclaimed. The other girl dwelled on that concern, though Ghedlyn, stranded in her own personal hell, hardly noticed. Mounted with Nordel on Ragabash, Rayanne Sedai would sometimes cry out suddenly or thrash about seemingly at random, causing Nordel to stop the horses until she quieted again. Sildane had said something about the Aes Sedai being overcome by a fever, but Ghedlyn could not devote enough of herself to figuring out what she meant by this.

Every stalk of grass, every leaf and every flower they rode past seemed composed of a bundle of minute threads about to unravel at any moment. For her, the breath of the wind was the heaving and swelling of the tapestry. The blue of the sky and the puffy clouds were delicate embroidery so fine and perfect as to have been crafted by the hand of the creator at that very moment. When a drizzle of rain fell upon them, Ghedlyn felt certain she could directly see the Age Lace tying a new complexity into itself. The waft of the land was like a great loom strung off into the distance awaiting some colossal shuttle to pass in the next thread. If she opened to _saidar_, Ghedlyn felt like she would suddenly understand the cast of the pattern and be able to predict everything past, present and future off into the shadows where the great seven-spoked Wheel looped back on itself and the Ages laced together to lose all distinction. All memory lay out there somewhere waiting to be recalled and discovered again and the principles of the fabric itself, known or not, remained constant and steady across the vastness of eternity.

Like nothing else in her life, Ghedlyn wanted to understand the pattern. It was everywhere. It was everything. If she could just see the structure of it, she would see a little more. But she could not. So she counted on and on and allowed her black eyes to stare off at nothing.

"There!" Nordel shouted and pointed ahead of them. When the horses cleared a particularly dense patch of reeds and grasses, a parting in the bracken ahead revealed a band of silver that stretched north and south and shined in the sun. "The river Erinin!"

"We made it!" Sildane chirped.

"Ha!" Nordel barked in something near laughter and shook his head, "just keep following me, kid."

Giving a chastened note of dissatisfaction, Sildane hupped Prancer back into motion.

In the breadth of her memory, Ghedlyn could not recall a single vision that affected her quite so strongly as that first view of the Erinin. When Papa brought her to Tar Valon all those years before, she had seen the river when they crossed on the strange, impossible white bridge. In her memory of that time, the bridge and the colorful swirling buildings of Tar Valon proper with the enormous white pinnacle that demarcating its highest point, even the looming shadow of the Dragonmount, all served to keep attention away from the Erinin itself. Here, the Dragonmount was still a forbidding presence far to the north and no bridges or buildings or people were anywhere to be seen, leaving the Erinin to dominate single-handedly.

The strip of undulating silver, in turns blue from the sky, gray from the clouds and gold from the flash of the sun, was the most perfectly harmonious sight Ghedlyn had ever seen. It was a stream of metal splashed across the surface of world, drawing the land down to it and under into its depth. It was not until they continued to travel toward it and barely seemed to draw any nearer that Ghedlyn realized exactly how huge the body of flowing water happened to be.

The sun at its noon height, peeking through a spread of indecisive clouds, Nordel finally guided them off of the flourishing flood-plain that baffled the river and onto the smooth, soft track of soil and sediment that the river could swell to accommodate at its seasonal height. The curvatious Erinin cut a sinuous, lazy path across its bed like a great, living serpent turning steadily to come and greet them. The river was so wide that nearly everything else Ghedlyn knew would be dwarfed by it. Even the entire farm where she had spent most of the years of her small life would not stretch the width between one bank of the body of water and the other.

Nordel finally drew the horses to a stop when they were still more than a few spans from the water's gurgling edge. "We will rest here," he declared, "with luck, maybe a riverboat will pass."

Ghedlyn squirmed out of Sildane's grasp and slipped down off of Prancer's saddle. Holding her favorite book tight against her chest, she ran for all she was worth across the smooth, pebbled soil to the verge where dry encountered wet.

"Ghedlyn!" Sildane called after her, "wait, don't run over... Nordel, should I...?"

"Let her go for now," Nordel said from Ragabash's saddle, "She cannot run far. Help me with Rayanne. As long as Ghedlyn is not causing trouble, I see no problem allowing her to stretch her legs."

"But she doesn't usually..." Sildane started to protest.

"You can play in the river with her after you help me get Rayanne settled," Nordel interrupted her gently. "For now, we can let her be."

The river occupied her every sense. Ghedlyn carefully placed her favorite book on the dry ground above the line of the rippling water, then turned her attention to the shimmering plain. She stooped to dip both of her hands into the cool, clear, shining liquid. Circular ripples spread out across the lapping surface from her skinny wrists and gentle eddies whirled around her fingers. She tracked those ripples traveling out into the enormity until they were lost to the dancing wavelets of hidden current. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into the wet silt hidden just beneath the lively surface.

It moved from north to south beginning before she had ever been born and would continue long after she died. It felt no pain with her fingers plying in the soil beneath it, but instead flowed as if she belonged there, permitting a gap in space to let her through. The immortality of it struck her deeply, dancing and permanent, cold to the touch, but not ice. Would it remain long after she was gone? Would it curve and flow differently? Would this path be traded for another or had it carved too deeply into these banks to be dissuaded from this channel ever again? The harmony danced and sprinted and dipped and glided and caressed the surface, playing somewhere between the reflected light and shifting, stately water.

In the shining, reflective surface, she saw a skinny girl in a dirty white dress and cloak staring back up at her. The image wavered as ripples traveling from far away touched the bank at her feet, though she could still see the tiredness in those black, almond eyes and the caked dirt in that stringy, unkempt raven hair. It was a face she was not so accustomed to seeing. Was there something else to see?

She wished she knew.

She had forgotten where she left off counting.


	37. Book 3: Chapter 12

Important Author's Note (9/16/07): Please give a moment of silence for James Oliver Rigney Jr., also known as Robert Jordan, who passed away the day this chapter was posted of heart complications. In his honor, this story is dedicated to Robert Jordan and his wife Harriet, without whom Ghedlyn simply would not exist.

* * *

Propped against a boat gunwale, half-lying, half-sitting on a pile of unused netting, Rayanne bit weakly into an unleavened piece of Cairheinin bread topped with a spread of peach preserve. For the moment, the drop in her fever permitted access to her five senses, allowing her an indelicate return to reality. She did not know how long it had been since the removal of the crossbow bolt. Nordel noticed the instant she became coherent and took the opportunity to press food into her one articulate hand. Rayanne did not remember packing any unleavened Cairheinin bread and wondered where he had found it. It tasted well, but she did not feel so hungry. 

"Keep eating that," Nordel said when he noticed her flagging. He reached over to adjust the basket hat draped on her head. "Your color has returned some. Please make certain to watch out for your face around these Tiarins."

While she hurt all through her right side, up into her neck and down into her lungs, lower through her ribs and into her hip, her shoulder felt much looser and freer than she remembered. The freedom undoubtedly owed to the miraculous absence of the crossbow bolt. She felt short on breath and coughed a deep cough periodically that produced blood, but otherwise could breathe. Nordel's efforts removing the quarrel had obviously paid off. While Nordel had tied her right arm tightly into place across her chest beneath her breasts so that she could not move it, sensation other than pain had begun to creep into the last two fingers of that hand. Regardless of the shades of improvement, she felt weak and jittery, as if her body were still trying to decide whether or not to accept its current state of being. Even though it had dropped for the moment, fever continue to threaten.

She fumbled with her left hand and took another bite of bread. The basket hat slid backward almost off her head before Sildane rescued it and straightened it from where she sat on Rayanne's other side.

"Keep to rhythm boys!" shouted the oar master in the bow of the river boat, "we got no proper wind today." Sweeps sighed and splashed in the water and the boards of the boat creaked as the rowing teams heaved their oars against the river. The great river Erinin stretched wide and silver to either side of the flat-bottomed craft, tugging them gently backward away from their upstream destination--the Dragonmount seemed much closer than it had the last time Rayanne remembered seeing it. The sheets of the boat's mainsail were tied in flat apparently to protect them and the wooden planking of the deck looked as if it had soaked up rain. Watching over it all, the captain stood on his high platform at the stern of the boat with the helmsman minding the tiller behind him.

Her favorite book propped against the gunwale, little black-haired Ghedlyn leaned bodily over the side of the riverboat, her almond-shaped obsidian eyes directed downward at the waters with a mesmerized, unsmiling intensity. Her dirty white dress flipped up behind her with a youthful, blasé immodesty that showed her skinny legs and small clothes.

"Sildane," Nordel said over Rayanne's head, "Please see that she does not fall over the side."

"Yessir," Sildane hopped up and darted to join Ghedlyn. She pulled the other girl's dress back into place and held onto her to keep her from falling. Ghedlyn made some exclamation when Sildane reached her, but Rayanne could not tell what the girl had said.

"You know," Nordel commented to Rayanne, "I do not believe she has ever traveled by boat, yet here she is."

Rayanne could not think of a reply. Her mind remained muddled, as if stuffed with goose down. "She must have come kicking and screaming," Rayanne was surprised at how much more easily she could speak, though her voice was rough and her mouth tasted like metal. "How did you get her onboard?"

"She came quietly for once," Nordel scratched his shaven head, "I admit I was waiting for a pitched battle, but she was so exhausted that she went without a noise. It might also be that the river is fascinating to her."

Rayanne grunted hoarsely. After all the trouble they had spent getting the girl acclimated to riding horses, she had boarded a boat without apparently batting an eyelid. What a world. "The wheel weaves as the wheel wills," she said at last.

"We were very lucky," Nordel sighed, "more lucky than we have been. If she continues to be on good behavior, these sailors may even forget her."

"Not if she continues to flash them with her backside," Rayanne commented as she watched Sildane pulling Ghedlyn's dress back into place again. The Aes Sedai thought to herself for a moment, "At least we will not have to dodge attention traveling through Alindaer now."

"No, just in Tar Valon," Nordel agreed.

"What do we face? Who will try to kill us next?" Rayanne asked him, deadpan.

"I have continued to think about what happened on the road," Nordel admitted, "The trap was clever. While they did lose some surprise, they have not lost much. Whoever arranged it must have been willing to pay a lot of gold indeed to convince so many toughs that so much more gold would be earned by the deed. I think the arrangement must have been blind; somebody was paid to walk into tavern after tavern, spreading word, dropping gold. The thugs themselves knew only to kill a little girl traveling with an Aes Sedai who would be found on the road to Tar Valon over the past couple days. No description other than that. Our only chance to learn more is to travel to the pay-out and see who shows up to identify children's' heads."

"Where was the pay-out? I've forgotten where you said..." Rayanne asked, steadying herself to not feel ill at the idea.

"I had to break the idiot's finger to learn where," Nordel muttered distastefully under his breath, half a rebuke to himself. "It will be a week and a half from now, on a road east of Cairhein. I expect it will be a bloodbath; enough gold to feed a city will be paid to the group that brings the head of the correct child," the warder glanced distantly toward Ghedlyn and Sildane. "Since these men were already killing each other over it, they will undoubtedly be fighting about it there too."

"And someone who knows Ghedlyn's face will be there," Rayanne murmured thoughtfully.

"Someone who has seen her, yes. Otherwise, how would they know who to pay, not knowing the facing of the child they wanted dead?" Nordel confirmed. "With all the blood in the water already, Light only knows how they expect to get _themselves_ out of what they started. Maybe the pay-off will not actually happen."

"This is very troublesome," Rayanne commented, "not many people know Ghedlyn's face and, of those, fewer know her worth."

"Aes Sedai, whoever it is _must_ be associated with the Tower," Nordel hissed, his face turning dark. "Traders employed by Dursh Prim know his daughter's face, but none understand enough about channeling to know her worth and therefore have no reason to kill her. Those working on the Tower Farm have no motive unless they know something about Aes Sedai or, again, channeling, and they are associated with the Tower regardless of what they know. The amount of money being thrown around cannot come from nowhere. Worse, if what you said the Amyrlin believes about Ghedlyn is actually true, then not just anybody is going to want her dead."

"Darkfriends, White Cloaks," Rayanne reminded him, "just about anybody who knows and hates Aes Sedai."

"Not true," Nordel insisted, his voice held low enough not to carry, "You said yourself that the Tree incident had to have been arranged by someone who knows Tower channeling. It must be true now as well since not many people understand channeling and only someone at least partly versed will understand Ghedlyn's significance. And, most of those--women last I checked--live in the Tower where we are headed right now! Regardless of how you look at it, the knowledge of Ghedlyn's importance _must_ have come from the Tower, which means that those who want Ghedlyn dead have some access to Tower knowledge."

"There are not that many sisters in the White Tower who know about Ghedlyn," Rayanne said. "Romanda and the Amyrlin have kept the circle tight."

"But," Nordel reiterated, "either directly among those sisters, or among people whom those sisters have confided in, resides someone with a reason to want Ghedlyn dead. You know as well as I that the Tower is a nest of schemes. You told me that the Hall of the Tower does not know about Ghedlyn yet. Is it possible that Aes Sedai would arrange a channeling girl's death on behalf of Tower Authority?"

"I do not want to believe it," Rayanne responded in ice. "We might as well do the Dark One's work directly! Allerria and Romanda have been very helpful and consistent. The Amyrlin Seat herself is the one who staked so much faith in Ghedlyn's education. Allerria does voice concerns about the girl's suitability, but she has never acted on it, even when there were opportunities. Romanda has never demonstrated anything but support."

"It has to be someone," Nordel leaned back against the side of the boat. "Otherwise none of this would have happened. Besides, you know as well as I that the Amyrlin and the Hall do not always see eye to eye."

Rayanne coughed several times and attempted to clear her throat. The taste of blood grew stronger in her mouth. When she could speak again, raggedly, she said, "If what the Amyrlin believes is true--and after all these years I no longer see how it could possibly be otherwise--I cannot comprehend why any sister would want her dead. Her Talent is too valuable. Value beyond measuring once she is ready, I would say."

"The problem with that kind of value," Nordel told her quietly, "is that someone will always see the same value in taking it away."

Rayanne could not eat any more and did not want to think. She felt so exhausted. She had not finished the piece of bread Nordel had given her, and could not make herself take another bite. Despite all else, she wished for a simpler time.

A Yellow Aes Sedai belonged in clinical wards, examining patients and exploring the fine art of healing. A Yellow sister found fulfillment in a patient brightening and blossoming out of illness. Even a farm girl beset with thoughts of ending her own life was more simple, more manageable and more real than galloping around avoiding men with murder in their hearts. Saving the world was what Blue sisters did. Brawling and battling was the point of joining the Green. Some Yellows could stand the field of battle, mending injuries or soothing suffering, but Rayanne was not one of those. She did not delude herself about her lack of strength in the power. Prior to this one assignment, she had spent her time after being raised to Aes Sedai at what she did best, Healing supplicants to the Tower, and had focused on studying illnesses of the mind since she did not have to be a particularly strong channeler in order to make a difference in that field; Healing the mind called for perseverance, empathy and understanding, not strength in the power.

Somewhere along the way, Rayanne's purpose of seeing Ghedlyn healed and whole as a human being, creating a woman who might one day become a powerful Aes Sedai herself, had darkened into something completely different. Ghedlyn was not exactly damaged in the classical definition of "damaged;" the Wheel and Nature itself had built her that way. How could a Yellow sister Heal where no injury actually existed?

His warm eyes following Ghedlyn and Sildane, both now leaning over the side of the boat looking down at the turbulent waters, Nordel sighed, "Most soldiers on a battlefield live to pay the butcher's bill. I have met very few who believed they belonged there or felt they had the skill to walk away from it. Many can name a reason why they came, though few believe themselves ready to fight or end up accomplishing what they set out to. When the metal is crashing all around you and men are screaming and falling, all you can do is fight as hard as you can and hope the next breath you take is not your last. Once it is done, the best a man can do is be grateful he remains breathing, find a strong drink and a woman to perch on his knee who will be happy to warm his bed. Wars are won on the backs of many who do not think themselves suited for it."

"Is this a war?" Rayanne asked roughly, also watching the two girls.

"Are you ready for it to become a war?" Nordel responded as he sometimes did, by asking a counter-question. "You do not always choose to walk onto a battlefield. Sometimes, you are standing in the middle of the field already when the battle suddenly begins."

"I am not meant to fight. I am a Healer."

"I do not think anyone was actually meant to fight," Nordel touched her good shoulder. "But you fight or die anyway because you do not have a choice. It will be worse before it becomes better."

Rayanne shook her head, feeling her spirits sink as if beneath the river. He spoke the truth and kindly, but did not say what she wanted to hear. "When could we have walked away?"

"Did we ever have the choice? Would you have turned your back on her that first day you met her, back when she bit your hand?"

Shaking her head, Rayanne said, "No."

"Then, you have your answer."


	38. Book 3: Chapter 13

A spring rainstorm issuing from the low-hanging clouds suppressed the Dragonmount to a hulking shade in the diffuse evening light. Dark buffers of cloud pooled in whimsical forms. Raindrops pattered down onto the rippling surface of the Erinin. 

The river widened and split in the middle, rushing to either side of the island that oversaw the deepest currents, as if the Erinin had spread into a lake. Barely visible behind the sheets of cascading rain, the unsupported white bridges spanned the impossible distance from the island to either riverbank. The bridge towns could not be seen through the storm. The island itself was packed to bursting with graceful buildings which shined lantern light from their windows. At the height of the river-locked promotory, standing sentinel over the great city, rose the spire of the White Tower.

They stroked forward against the current on synchronized sweeps with the captain and his oar-master shouting orders to the crew while the helmsman drew on the tiller and guided the riverboat into the sheltered cove of South Harbor. Soon the riverboat was tied to a jetty and longshoremen helped pull the flat-bottomed craft in. Gangplanks were set across from ship to shore and the crew began the lengthy job of moving their cargo dockside.

Ragabash and Prancer were the least of Nordel's concerns; both horses followed benignly down the planks set side-by-side to support them, even in the on-again, off-again rain shower which slickened the wood. During the trip up the river, Nordel had managed to trade with the captain for clean cloaks to hide their bloodstained clothing, making them at least somewhat presentable next to the grubby Tiarin crew. Sildane tried valiantly to be helpful, but her fear and nervousness were beginning to tell. The bronze-haired girl, looking like a drowned rat in the downpour, stood shaking to the bone if she were not put to a task and frequently fumbled or dropped whatever she happened to be holding at the time. Sildane's gradually more dubious reliability paled next to Nordel's real difficulties.

Rayanne's fever surged and worsened with the rain. His Aes Sedai retained some presence of mind, though she was steadily failing. She could not easily maneuver herself, despite continued attempts to render herself independent of aid. She was a proud woman having to face unaccustomed weakness and she was not managing it gracefully. Nordel and Sildane worked together to guide a protesting Rayanne down the gangplank to keep her from slipping and falling into the river. While the bowl shaped hat she still wore had helped to hide her ageless face throughout the trip, it complicated their threesome crossing the gangplank to the dock simultaneously.

"Just another step," Nordel said to her, "one foot there. We are almost ashore."

"How far?" the Aes Sedai gasped in pain as she stumbled. "Let me go, I can handle this..."

The plank swayed between ship and shore, impeding them a few steps before they could reach the jetty.

"Ghedlyn...?" Rayanne winced, wanting to go back.

"Stay there!" Nordel ordered once they finally brought her safely to the dock.

Sildane moved close to the Aes Sedai to help to hold her up, "She is still on the ship."

"She is close to the edge," Rayanne exclaimed urgently, "she is so close. I need to talk to her. It has been too long for her!"

If Ghedlyn went aboard the ship docilely, she fought like a rabid lion against leaving. When Nordel went back up the plank onto the riverboat for her, he found her in nearly the same place she had occupied the entire trip, leaning over the gunwale staring down at the water. Though soaked to the skin in her blood darkened, mud stained, formerly white dress, her attention did not waver. When Nordel tried to move her from that place, she began immediately to scream as if she were about to die.

"NO NO NO!!" the black-haired girl wailed, "I DON'T KNOW YET, I DON'T KNOW YET!!! NO NO NO!! I NEED TO KNOW!!! I NEED TO KNOW!!"

"Come now," Nordel grabbed her bodily and dragged her. He ended up carrying her under his arm, screaming, flailing and kicking. Her teeth were sharp points through his sleeve. Her fingernails slashed about like the talons of an eagle caught in a briar. Nordel felt some amazement that she managed to keep her favorite book tucked under her arm throughout the struggle. "We have to leave the boat now!" He prayed to the creator that she would not pick this moment to let loose with her channeling might and rip the riverboat in half. Unaware of the danger right beneath their noses, crewmen stared at the warder as he dragged the shrill girl down the plank off the boat and onto the dock.

"There," Rayanne pointed, "take us there, down to the water." She put weak pressure on Sildane's shoulder, urging the girl toward a set of stone stairs at the end of the jetty which led down to the river surface. "There."

Ghedlyn screaming and Rayanne stumbling, Nordel and Sildane managed to bring them to waterline. Ghedlyn calmed down fractionally with the river so close. She dropped eagerly from Nordel's grip, dashed to the water's edge and dipped her hands into the river. He tucked the girl's precious leather-bound book against his side in a half-hearted effort to keep it dry. With Sildane's help, Rayanne sat down in the rain beside her.

Nordel could not hear the first few words his Aes Sedai whispered to the girl, but he could feel Rayanne's intent.

Rayanne touched Ghedlyn's soaked hair and smoothed it back away from her face. Ghedlyn's eyes were closed and she wore a look of utter ecstasy. Her lips were moving.

"You did not embrace the source again," Rayanne said to her, "You did well there. I know how you must feel. It is tempting to hold _saidar_ forever."

Ghedlyn seemed to ignore her, swaying and caressing the water.

"We are in Tar Valon," Rayanne said, "We made it to Tar Valon. You can touch the source."

"Aes Sedai!" Nordel protested, "If we are being tracked..."

Rayanne held her hand up to quiet him. "Many women can channel here. Maybe many women can feel her, but as many women might also be channeling. Any channeling woman here will know that. One girl among many is hard to track."

"But this is Ghedlyn," Nordel reminded her. He could not think of any other protest.

"We need her in control," insisted Rayanne. "She is losing control and has been since before the boat, I would wager. How she has kept under control since the night of the attack, I cannot guess."

Ghedlyn's eyes were open and Nordel knew she was watching them in her peripheral vision.

Rayanne touched the black-haired girl's shoulder, and looked toward Sildane "Sildane, weave a ball of light, any color you like."

"Are you certain?" Sildane asked, her voice pitched high and quavering.

Rayanne nodded, "Go on. Do it."

A ball of white light sprang into being at forehead level in front of Sildane's face. Her brown eyes were wide with fear. Her little light barely pushed back the impinging evening dimness and the weight of the rainstorm.

"There," Rayanne said sideways to Ghedlyn, "you see? I am allowing it now."

"_Saidar_? I can... _saidar_? It is not wrong, is it not wrong? Has that changed?"

"You can hold _saidar_ and I will let you channel for the moment."

"_Saidar_," Ghedlyn's head lolled back and her eyes drifted closed as rain streamed down her face. Her mouth, subtly pursed before, became loose.

Nordel did not very well follow what happened next. A gentle blast of air blew outward from the girl and they were all dry. The curtain of rain parted in a hemisphere around them and their skin--Sildane's, his own, Ghedlyn's and Rayanne's--as well as their clothing, was all free of water. The stone stairs were instantly dried nearly up to the level of the dock, right to a sheer line where the rain continued to reach and soak the ground. Her silken black hair spilling in a fall down her back, Ghedlyn tipped her head forward. The surface of the river where her hands touched flashed into a crust of ice which spread outward in a ring across the South Harbor bay. Ice rattled and crackled audibly against boat hulls farther and farther away. Again, in a ring passing outward away from her hands, the surface of ice relaxed back into liquid water and surged momentarily with boiling bubbles. Longshoremen and boat crews gave cries of alarm and some looked at the river in amazement or pointed and called to fellows. Then, the water's surface became perfectly flat and smooth as if no rain were falling and no waves or no boats were bobbing nearby and instead sat like a pane of solid glass. Finally, the water began to form its normal lapping waves, almost like nothing at all had happened.

Sated, Ghedlyn sat back on her haunches with her expression profoundly relaxed. The rain fell on them again.

Rayanne coughed, producing blood into her hand that only Nordel noticed. "That should be plenty," the Aes Sedai said to the obsidian-eyed girl. "Sildane, you can release it now too."

Sildane exhaled sharply and her tiny light winked out. Her eyes were wide with awe.

Nordel shook his head, "Aes Sedai, if you wanted a display nobody would notice... Light...!"

"We... we have to go to the White Tower now," Rayanne's voice seemed tiny and weak. "If touching the river that way calms her, it was worth it."

"If half the Aes Sedai in the Tower did not feel that, I would be amazed," Nordel grumbled, leaning to help Rayanne up.

His Aes Sedai was shaking her head. A transient smile touched her lips, "That was not quite what you might believe it was. Sometimes..." she began thoughtfully and then cut off. "Sometimes, power is not what it seems to be."

"You were right, Ghedlyn! You were exactly right!" Sildane exclaimed excitedly and leaped to hug her friend, "You are amazing Ghed! Will you teach me that one?"

In a distant address to no one, Ghedlyn murmured, "I see now. The Lace presses against it and distorts the metric."

Holding Rayanne upright with an arm under her good shoulder, Nordel passed the leather book wordlessly back to Ghedlyn, and then turned to help Rayanne up the stairs. He could not deny feeling a tiny amount of fear toward the child. Because he spent the majority of his life around dangerous people, one young girl seemed hardly worth note. But, as she grew, he sometimes stumbled onto occasion to rethink what he considered dangerous.

"Ours is not to reason why," he mumbled to himself, "ours is but to do and die."


	39. Book 3: Chapter 14

When the rain let up, Tar Valon's streets filled almost miraculously with people. Wherever they had hidden while the water fell, they crowded forth seemingly from nowhere almost as soon as it stopped. As the evening steadily darkened, lamplighters went rapidly about their chore with the oil lanterns they carried. On streets between the sometimes-whimsical buildings, dusted by fog from low-hanging clouds, hawkers still cried their wares from carts or tables. Tower Guards with watchful eyes and the Flame of Tar Valon emblazoned on their tabards stood at many corners as a reminder of the power behind this city. Sedan chairs and palanquins with ruffled drapes moved everywhere through the throngs seeking nighttime entertainment in taverns or merchants hurrying about closing their shops and businesses. 

Ragabash and Prancer clopped along the cobbled street behind Sildane. Ahead of her, Nordel pushed through the press while guiding the weakened Rayanne Sedai. The warder glanced pointedly over his shoulder from time to time, though he did not seem to be watching either of the two girls toiling in his wake. Ghedlyn followed behind Nordel and the Aes Sedai, her head turning back and forth compulsively as her black eyes sought to record each new wonder that presented itself. She was handling "strange" and "new" surprisingly well tonight and she had not let go of _saidar_ since they left the South Harbor. As usual, she never did smile, but her eyes and blank face seemed almost to glow. She had quieted since the incident at the river. Sildane brought up the rear leading the pair of horses and generally trying not to trip over her own two feet.

A nest of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach.

The Tower, huge and ominous, lit by torches from windows along its aspiring height, sometimes peaked between buildings when the clouds parted in just the right way. Who could think a three thousand year old edifice of seamless white stone would invoke such a feeling of anxiety and dread? This was where girls came to learn how to channel. As the saying went, once the Tower got its hooks into a girl, it was the Tower that would decide when it was done with her. It was also said that many girls with the ability to channel had been put out of the Tower when Aes Sedai decided they were not able to reach the shawl. Hearing about the Tower her whole life from her mother, Sildane knew about Aes Sedai, but found herself wondering now about those channeling women who were not talented enough. Though people claimed they existed, she had never heard any stories about women with the gift who did not wear the ring.

With the Tower and all it represented looming ahead, Sildane could not help wondering whether she would survive it. When Rayanne Sedai offered her the chance to learn oh-so-long-ago, she told Sildane that Sildane would one day need to make this trip and that the choice would alter her life forever. The truth struck her now more than ever before. She and her mother once visited the White Tower running an errand for an Aes Sedai who stayed at the farm, but this time she arrived equipped with her own miniscule channeling ability, knowing full well that it would be her name inscribed in the novice book and not some other girl's. And, she was painfully aware that Ghedlyn made her hard won skill look like a flickering candle next to a raging inferno. Over and over, Rayanne Sedai instructed Sildane to not compare herself to Ghedlyn and insisted that Ghedlyn was extremely abnormal. But, Ghedlyn was the only other channeling girl Sildane had ever known.

"This way, Sildane," Nordel called to her, turning up a side street that took them laterally across the island in the direction of the Ogier grove.

"But I thought..." Sildane responded, pointing helplessly along the street toward where she knew the main entrance to the White Tower and the surrounding compound had to be. Ragabash neighed spiritedly as if he scented home and wanted to proceed there directly.

"Not today," Nordel glanced behind them again, his eyes searching the droves of people.

"But the front entrance is that way," Sildane had no choice but to follow along.

"The front is not the only way in," the warder guided his ailing Aes Sedai ahead.

The Tower seemed to hulk over them. Sildane thought she could almost sense eyes staring down from those heights, watching the city for any hapless channeling girl who stumbled onto the island.

Ghedlyn made a noise of delight, dark eyes gleaming, as they walked past a merchant who was emptying a rain barrel into an alleyway gutter. Sildane saw her friend draw more of the power, then relax again. She seemed almost to embrace it joyously.

Sildane loved Ghedlyn dearly and treasured their time together. She loved taking the other girl to the patch of marsh near the farm where they could count frogs. She loved shooing away the buzzing bees that always set her friend to panic. She loved the small channeling games she and Ghedlyn had constantly played throughout the winter, creating weaves together as if they were playing a game of strings. She loved being an older sister to a girl who direly needed it. Despite all that, she knew only despair at ever gaining a shadow of Ghedlyn's channeling ability.

"I tell you, ice spread across the harbor," a bearded man in a green coat covered with brocade patterns told another man standing in a doorway beside him, "then went away, just as quick as that!"

"You been drinking too much again..." the second man said just as Sildane exceeded earshot.

The river had fascinated Ghedlyn. During their trip on the boat, she had told Sildane repeatedly about a strange looping, spiraling, dancing pattern that ran throughout the river which she had never before seen in water otherwise. "There, see the spiral, there? The function space superposition has a time dependent collapse on a radial parameter with the Lace metric."

Sildane had not understood the wording Ghedlyn attempted to apply, "I do not know. I do not understand what you are talking about." Sildane had strained at the sloshing waves with her eyes, trying to see it the way Ghedlyn did. A fish managed better trying to breathe air.

"Why was it not there before?" Ghedlyn asked herself for the umpteenth time. "You remember the stream, remember you it? With the thirty-fourth frog. The section twenty one steps on the curve from the three rocks?"

"You mean that day you almost got stung by the bee when you started digging in the creek bed after that frog?" Sildane had prompted, hanging her arms over the gunwale.

Ghedlyn had shuddered visibly at the reminder and become momentarily introspective. After several breaths of silent contemplation, she plowed on with a single-minded determination at her previous thought, "The creek was not enough. The loop was too small. The superposition was not so strong. More water was needed to reinforce the harmony above the visible threshold. In this river, you can see it. Can you see it?"

Sildane still had not seen it. Ghedlyn had attempted to describe with empty gestures of her hands how the loop was made and how it interacted with the "Lace of Ages," though Sildane only understood a little. The prohibition against Ghedlyn directly channeling to show her discovery to Sildane seemed to frustrate the obsidian-eyed girl intensely, but her preoccupation with the river water had helped dampen that discontent. Ghedlyn would happily have scrawled a smattering of symbolic equations all over the boat deck in an effort to educate Sildane, if only Nordel had not prohibited that also. Not that Sildane would have understood the equations any better. Sildane had learned a little in her time with Ghedlyn; she had forced herself with meager success to understand some of the arcane symbolism her friend steeped herself in, but Ghedlyn always seemed to introduce or create something new every time Sildane thought she was beginning to understand a little of anything.

This once, what finally drove the point home for Sildane was the final weave Ghedlyn made while sitting at water line on the end of the stone jetty. Standing beside Nordel in the rain, holding the tiny globe of light and feeling the joy of _saidar_ glowing down onto her, Sildane had gasped at the rapidity of weaving when her friend suddenly touched the source. The black haired girl spat out a succession of no fewer than ten or twenty weaves as if they were all a single long weave, blowing back the rain and simultaneously drying off all the people and things around her. Sildane knew those weaves because she and Ghedlyn had invented them together--rather Ghedlyn invented them and then refined them so that Sildane could do them also, though she would not have recognized them had she not been paying close attention. Then, Ghedlyn turned her mind to the river. She touch the river and felt it, then spun a single, tiny, remarkable weave of Water, Wind and the smallest Fire, unlike anything Rayanne Sedai had ever shown them or that they had discovered otherwise on their own. She thought she saw the loop Ghedlyn had described to her in that weaving and saw it pull tight into the surface of the harbor. At the tiniest level, the liquid water locked together and became ice and would have frozen the entire bay solid had Ghedlyn not minutely adjusted it to unlock it again. When she let the weave go, the loop harmony in the river forgot itself a moment before breathing a sigh of relief and returning to normal.

For a split instant, Sildane thought she had seen the creator's hand at work. The weave had resounded as if Ghedlyn had flicked the side of an enormous bell and set it to thrumming minutes later.

Pulling Ragabash and Prancer clip-clopping in her wake, she dejectedly followed Nordel, Rayanne and Ghedlyn. She felt her anxiety escalating. She felt totally alone in this ancient city headed toward a confrontation with her destiny. She thought about that weave at the harbor and remembered being amazed not because Ghedlyn threw her whole strength behind it, but because the black-haired girl had applied almost no strength at all. For the same effort, Ghedlyn could have woven a globe of light half the strength of the one Sildane had been wielding the very same moment. Sildane remembered the pattern Ghedlyn wove and thought that maybe she could perform it herself if she could handle the strands of Water and Fire together. Fire gave her troubles when she tried to use it as only a tiny accent--she was simply not that deft with it. She wished she could make Ghedlyn repeat the weave a couple more times for her. Unlike her friend, she almost never managed to reproduce a weave after seeing it only once, even one as small and simple as the one which nearly froze all that water. She felt so... inadequate.

Would a girl training in the Tower have seen it more easily? Sildane wished she could ask Rayanne Sedai. Everything she learned about channeling, from Rayanne Sedai with her visualizations and gestures and her precisely strung weaves, to the chaos and intuition that was Ghedlyn, everything left Sildane amazed. She thought she might never obtain either encyclopedic knowledge of channeling nor express the slightest genius. She felt like she meant absolutely nothing, as if she were a tiny bug on this stone street about to be trod upon by the mighty Ragabash.

Rayanne Sedai tripped on a cobble in the street, jerked out of Nordel's grip and fell to her knees. The Aes Sedai's face was pallid and her eyes spun in their sockets in a hideously sub-human fashion.

"Oh that's done it," Nordel grumbled. Heedless of her weakening protests, the warder hefted the golden haired woman and carried her cradled in his arms, as if she were half her actual size. "Sildane, do not dawdle, we are running out of time!"

"I thought we were going into the Tower from another side..." Sildane protested as Nordel accelerated their pace. He turned up yet another street, this time headed directly back toward the Tower.

"Plans change," Nordel responded shortly with Rayanne gathered against his chest. "We need to get to the Tower as soon as possible." Sildane could see a dribble of blood running off his wrist.

People in the crowds began to recognize the deadly grace of a warder in motion, even though the ugly, shaven-headed man was not wearing his color-shifting cloak. Murmurs began to follow them. At least some in the throng were willing to stand aside respectfully in order to give them quicker passage. Nordel glanced once over his shoulder at the crowd behind them, his gaze well above Sildane's head.

"Stand aside!" he called ahead, "Coming through!"

Sildane found herself nearly jogging to keep up, her heart thundering through her skull and neck as if it were the hoof-beats of the two horses behind her. The Tower seemed too close.

Walls of people parted to let them through, their faces leering in the garish streetlight. Sildane pressed close behind Nordel. Rayanne Sedai's feet brushed against people near their sides and her disheveled golden braid bounced against Nordel's leg as he moved. Sildane found herself panting with exertion, though it seemed minimal compared to what they had been through already.

She glanced around at the curved, graceful buildings and the people who now watched them. "Ghedlyn?"

Nordel pushed ahead through the automatically parting crowd carrying his Aes Sedai like a prized possession. Sildane followed him pulling the horses.

Ghedlyn was nowhere to be seen.

"Ghedlyn!" Sildane bleated in alarm.

Her friend was not with them.


	40. Book 3: Chapter 15

Nordel realized his mistake the instant Sildane cried out and he swore, "Blood and Ashes!" With Rayanne held protectively in his arms, the warmth of her blood just beginning to seep through his tunic, he stopped and rotated to sweep the crowd with his eyes. People sensed his anger and drew back as if hit by an invisible pressure. Even without his color-shifting cloak, they knew him to be a warder.

"She was there, and then she disappeared!" Sildane protested, Ragabash and Prancer ducking their heads up and down, whinnying impatiently behind her. "She was just right there!"

The warder did not respond. He glared at each face in the crowd around them, absorbing every set of features. Since they left the dock at South Harbor, one particular face had always stood out behind them whenever Nordel turned to take a look. He thought little of it at first, but began to feel a tingle of danger when the man matched their turns as they winded their way across the island. One coincidence he could accept; repeated coincidences, he could not. There had always been a chance that some of their greedy cutthroat pursuers from the road in the south would anticipate that the warder might find a way to slip their trap and keep his wards safe. For the amount of gold on Ghedlyn's head, a daring foray to the doorstep of the Tower itself could become a bankable risk. Weighted against the unknown enemies Ghedlyn already had in Tar Valon, Nordel did not know what to think. Their successful arrival at the island city did not make them safe by any means! He wondered off-hand whether someone knew how to distinguish Sildane from Ghedlyn as a target and decided that his own action of trusting Sildane with the horses made Ghedlyn appear as the more protected of the two. When he searched the people around him this time, with Ghedlyn missing, the man with the carefully cropped black beard oiled to a point and the scar down the side of his face was nowhere to be seen.

"When was the last you saw her?" he demanded of Sildane harshly, angry with himself for not keeping a much closer eye on the black-haired girl. To allow her to get separated from them in a crowd? Rayanne would never forgive him. Why did it have to be right now? Why now?

Sildane wore a panicked look and she visibly shivered, "It- it- it- had to have been that last corner. Yeah, I think, the last corner. She was watching a man emptying a water barrel while we passed..."

"You!" Nordel addressed two men in gray and yellow livery carrying an empty sedan chair.

"I'm sorry ser," the husky man in the lead tried to shoulder his way past the warder, "we have to pick up our lord's wife."

"I do not care who under the light you serve!" since his hands were full with Rayanne, Nordel stepped down forcefully on the man's foot to stop him in his tracks. The husky man yelped and glared at Nordel, but ceased attempting to pass. The glare of a furious warder was not to be ignored. Nordel gently and quickly pushed his insensate Aes Sedai into the empty sedan chair seat and pulled a purse of gold from his cloak. He tucked the purse into the fold of the man's tunic, "Take this Aes Sedai to the Tower! And quickly! That payment should be worth your trouble. If I learn she died in your hands, I will find you and kill you, your lord and your lord's wife!"

He spun to Sildane, "Go with them, see that Rayanne makes it to the Tower and is Healed!"

Before Sildane could reply, he was off at a run, "Guardsman!" He shouted down a thickset fellow with an oft-broken nose who wore the Flame of Tar Valon on his tabard.

"...Gaidin?" he turned with a surprised expression on his heavy face and bowed his head, "ser, I... I am at your service. The name is Pinot, ser..." He was plainly stunned at being addressed so directly and probably did not usually answer straight to Aes Sedai or their warders.

"Pinot, whatever, I need your eyes, and the eyes of every guardsman we pass," Nordel grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him along as he ran, "We need to find a girl in this crowd."

"Ser?" The man panted and stumbled after him, trying to catch his feet after being forced into motion. "A- a girl?"

"This height," Nordel gestured, "Domani girl, twelve in age. Long, messy black hair, vacant expression. She is in a dirty white dress and carries a large leather book beneath one arm. Very hard to miss! With luck she will be screaming her head off when you see her..."

"As you say," Pinot acknowledged. His face had turned serious and he adjusted his helm forward on his brow as he tried to match Nordel's lengthy running stride.

"There might also be a man with her," Nordel continued, "My height, might be Ghealdanin--perhaps Lugarder. He had a scar on his face and an oiled black beard worn at a point. He was clothed in a long gray cloak and a wide-brimmed hat."

"Ser. Will he be trouble?" Pinot asked.

Nordel shook his head and fingered the hilt of his straight sword as he ran, "I hope under the light not, but... be ready!"

They arrived at the corner where Sildane had said she remembered Ghedlyn still with them. The flickering oil lanterns on sparse lightposts, the moving bodies of people and the glow emitting from windows or doorways combined into a weird show of dancing shadows in the deepening dusk. Low clouds on a gentle wind that smelled of fresh water dusted past a building shaped like a colorful conch shell not too far down the street away from the corner intersection. Raucous cheers issued from a tavern whose sign declared "Sultry Rose" and sported the likeness of a buxom woman with a flower in one hand. At the entrance to an alley just down the split in the causeway, several building-fronts from the tavern, a man with a braided beard had carried a cask containing rainwater from a doorway and knelt by the gutter to empty it. Several similar casks were lined up nearby in front of the building.

"The water! She has to be this way!" Nordel told the heavyset Tower guard, Pinot, with certainty, "Talk to anyone with lots of water! Remember to spread the word with any other guards you meet. We must find her at once!"

"Of course, ser," Pinot bowed his head and hurried down the street past the tavern, "Black-haired girl with a book. Water. We will find her! Hey Jaidin...!" he called to another Tower guard standing idle just ahead.

Though he quivered with anger, Nordel managed to calm himself enough to approach the man emptying the barrel of water, "Excuse me, friend." He swallowed hard, trying to keep from scowling.

The man kneeling with the wooden cask glanced up, "Yes. You need something?" He had a faint Kandori accent and he wore a small silver bell in one of his beard braids.

"In the last few minutes, have you seen a young girl come past here?" Nordel asked, "Black hair and carrying a book. She may have watched you with one of these casks."

The man smiled broadly, "Yes, cute girl! Stopped and stared. Did not say anything when I spoke to her. Would not meet my eye; strange. She went that way," he gestured along the street toward the tavern.

"Thank you friend," Nordel said.

"Of course! Try not to glower that way too sharply friend, your face may stick!"

"Thanks for the advice," Nordel responded tersely as he continued up the street.

Why now? Why tonight? He could sense that Rayanne remained alive, but he dreaded the next moment. The blood soaked into his tunic was cooling. She felt like she was slipping away from him. He wanted so badly to turn and run to her side. He wanted to make certain she got to the Tower in enough time to preserve her life. But he knew she would never forgive him if he left Ghedlyn alone. Why did it have to be tonight?

A crowd of people was packed into the entry of the Sultry Rose, men and women groping at each other to press through the tavern door. Dulcimer music and a woman singing sounded from within along with bawdy laughter and people clapping to the tune. One of the men just entering the tavern wore a long gray cloak and a wide-brimmed hat. When the man glanced over his shoulder back out into the street, Nordel saw his pointed beard and the scar on his face.

Seeing Nordel, the man smiled from the corner of his mouth and tipped his hat, then turned back and disappeared through the mass of people into the tavern.

Something about the grin needled the warder tremendously. Something in it came off as flagrantly insulting, even taunting. The deep-seated tickle of intuition told Nordel that he had seen his enemy's face. He knew exactly who he wanted to kill.

If Ghedlyn were not somehow inside that tavern, he would personally cut off one of his own ears to settle with Jack O'the Shadows. But, it made no sense; with all the people clapping and cheering, the normally reticent Ghedlyn would head the opposite direction to find a corner in which to curl up and hide. But with that man in there, Ghedlyn had to be somewhere nearby too. Nordel could think of no reason at all why she would enter such a strange place without kicking and screaming and biting the whole way. What had come over her tonight?

Adjusting his straight sword on his belt, Nordel walked toward the entrance of the Sultry Rose.


	41. Book 3: Chapter 16

She could see it all.

After a week of straining and struggling to avoid embracing _saidar_, the whole of reality flew at her in a deluge of light and sound and smell and touch. Every stray current of air ripe with cloudy moisture caressed and tickled the skin of her face. Voices mixed together with echoes from building fronts harmonizing into a cacophony of indistinction that thrummed with footsteps and rustling clothing and noisy breath. The scent of mutton roasting on a fire eddied as if a tangible river. Under the calming, enshrouding radiance of _saidar_, she could feel everything--sense absolutely everything. She felt safe and warm and protected.

Dozens of women were channeling. She could feel the ripples from their efforts rebounding through _saidar_ and could even sense the dynamic shocks as their weaving twisted into the Lace of Ages and emerged to become the substance of reality. More than anything, she could still perceive the looping pattern connected to water. A hint of the water spiral overlaid the solidity of people's bodies all around her. She could almost sense the coiling harmony ebb and surge through fleshy forms on pulsing heart beats, though it intermixed with other far more complicated patterns constructed from fire, earth, spirit, wind and of course different threads of water. The threads laid out according to the creator's plan were a thousand times more intricate and complicated than she could match by weaving on her own, but she could sense them none-the-less. Embracing _saidar_, she felt all of it at a level she had never felt before.

She followed her feet, sensing Nordel and Rayanne Sedai and Sildane close by. Through the clarity of _saidar_, she could feel them near. Rayanne Sedai was hurting again, spilling bloody water onto Nordel's shirt. Sildane seemed on the verge of panic. Nordel felt displeased, though he rarely seemed pleased of late. They were saying things. Everyone was saying things. She could not make it out. She could not discern it.

She continued to walk, meandering through a million billion patterns trying to keep straight where and what she was. So much.

So very much.

She had never known _saidar_ to be so huge.

It was too much.

She felt as if a week of not touching the source had left her starved and craving so deeply that the affinity had grown sharper and sharper and sharper until she nearly touched the source without touching it at all. And now that she actually touched it again, even though she had consistently avoided it for so long, the smallest amount intoxicated her. She felt like a starving woman about to vomit after gorging to fill her shrunken stomach--as if she needed to eat, but simply could not keep the meal down.

One arm clasped over her head, she dropped to her knees.

The weight was too much.

The light and noise, the intensity felt like it was about to burn her alive, as if she were hugging the sun.

It took her a moment to understand that she had drawn almost too deeply. A bit more would be too far. She pushed it back, but it was insistent. She could barely breathe.Everything felt like fire.

Ghedlyn forced herself to relax the way Rayanne Sedai taught her. It took all the focus she could muster, but she began to see the division between herself and the source.

A flower in the sun.

She regulated her breathing and tried to embrace that part of herself that was not _saidar_. Buried somewhere deep down far beneath the flames lay her own flesh and blood. She pushed away the pattern sense and the enormity of the source. She was a flower in the sun. A flower drinking of the sun, but separate from it.

Heart pounding in her ears, Ghedlyn took stock of her hands and feet. The leather-bound book lay beside her on a floor made of wooden planking. Two and a half planks together were the width of the book. She shivered and forced herself to release the source further. Warmth from _saidar_ guttered down to no more than a trickle. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. Her skull rang as if she had collided with a wall. She felt so empty, so hungry, but pushed it away. If she drew again now, it would be nearly too far. She wanted to draw. She had been panting.

"Are you okay, child?" someone was patting her back.

"Ahh!" Ghedlyn sprang to her feet and clutched her book against her chest. She did not know these people. She did not know where she was!

A portly woman with long, reddish hair and a high-bridged nose looked down on her with apparent concern. Ghedlyn did not know this woman.

"How did you come in here?" the woman asked, "Are either of your parents here?"

Lit brightly by oil braziers, with colorful tapestries and paintings decorating the walls, the huge room resounded with voices and laughter. Ghedlyn did not think she had ever seen so many people packed in one place together before. Still holding a trickle of _saidar_, she felt strangely calm. She could not see Sildane or Nordel, but felt certain they both needed to be somewhere close. She wondered it Rayanne Sedai was okay; she remembered dimly that something had happened to her teacher, but she did not know what. Her recent memories entangled behind the muzzy vastness of _saidar_, obscured from clear recollection.

"Excuse me...?" the woman began, her girth an imposition. She was touching Ghedlyn still.

Not meeting the woman's eyes, Ghedlyn shrugged out of the unwanted grasp and pushed bodily away. Holding her book tightly, she ducked someone's elbow and pushed between two other people.

"Hey!" the woman called, more than a little offended, "...did you see that girl...?"

Sildane had to be around here somewhere. Her friend was never far away.

A woman in a long red robe made of svelte fabric who stood on a raised stage that might have been a trestle table in its former life began to sing to the accompaniment of a hammer dulcimer. The huge number of people in the room cheered riotously and began to clap. Ghedlyn wanted to hold her ears. On the farm, the farm hands and house women would sometimes gather to dance in the evenings with Nordel singing and playing his harp; this room reminded her of that, only with many more people. A droplet of liquid spattered from a carelessly thrown mug hit Ghedlyn squarely in the face and forced her to mop wetness off her brow with the sleeve of her cloak. She wanted to cover her ears and find a corner to shelter away from the overwhelming stimulus, but she wanted to find Sildane even more.

The music and woman's voice echoed powerfully from the walls of the room, easily overwhelming the raucous cheers of the audience. Ghedlyn stopped to listen, her head cocked to the side. She was used to hearing Nordel, but this woman had a command of her voice far beyond anything Ghedlyn knew. Her potent vocalization intertwined with the musical notes to form a darting pattern far and away more sophisticated than anything in the little black-haired girl's experience. People moved and rocked and sang along with the woman, their words foreign to Ghedlyn. Not that Ghedlyn had ever in her life been able to comprehend the words someone spoke while singing, even if it was Nordel. Clapping and stomping shoes from men and women who danced in an open section of floor met the musical notes from the dulcimer as if designed to expand the song.

Ghedlyn found herself just standing, head tilted back, eyes half-closed, calculating the envelopes of superposition for each rhythm. It was gorgeous and full and defined in a way that she did not know. She wanted to stand in that one spot forever, just listening, soaking the sensations through her skin.

She wished she could show Sildane this place. Sildane liked to sing. Ghedlyn had never before understood why Sildane liked to sing, but she thought she knew a bit more about the reason now.

Sildane had to be somewhere nearby.

Ghedlyn regretfully resumed her search. She squeezed between men and women, trying to avoid touching anyone.

Men danced with women who wore long, lavishly embroidered dresses that spun in colorful orbits around their bodies as they dipped in their partner's arms and then spun away, a hand or two intertwined with their man. Ghedlyn could see sweat beading on powdered skin and felt amazement at their smiles. Feet darting along the floorboards propelled them around and past one another, their footsteps falling in time to the clapping audience and mixing together with the dulcimer and the voice of the woman on stage. Men and women brushed together, hands upon one another, deliberately seeking to touch, their smiles large and eyes fixed upon their partner as if nothing else in the world existed.

A penetrating gaze sneaked through the flurry of dancing men and women to catch Ghedlyn standing by herself. Ghedlyn felt the small hairs on the back of her neck prickle. He was tall, maybe slightly taller even than Nordel. His wide brim hat cast the better part of his face in shadow under the oil lanterns hung at intervals in the huge, open room. Ghedlyn could see the glint of his eyes returning her stare and saw his broken face smile very slightly, sharply delineating the scar on his right cheek. With a thumb and forefinger, he compulsively smoothed his oiled black beard to a point.

Her heart catching in her throat, Ghedlyn immediately broke her eyes from the man, not wanting to absorb the aggressive intent. She felt naked. She hugged the leather book more sharply against her chest and began to search more frantically for Sildane or Nordel. She didn't know exactly what to do, but she believed she would die if she remained alone, among these people she did not know or trust. She wished to run into Rayanne Sedai's arms or to find her father.

"There you are!" the portly woman with the red hair declared, seizing Ghedlyn's shoulder. "A girl your age should not be running around without a parent near, but I'll wager you ran from the Tower!"

"No!" Ghedlyn bleated and twisted free of the woman's undesired touch. She tried to see where the man with the shadowed face was now, but the redheaded woman blocked her view.

"Ungrateful little wretch!" the woman moved to follow her, "And I was trying to help you. You need to go back to where you belong!"

"No please, no!" Ghedlyn backed away, keeping out of the range of the woman's hands and refusing to meet her eyes. If she continued to move in this direction, she knew she would be sandwiched against the stage where the singer still sang and would be completely trapped.

"Not to worry, madam," the man with the pointed beard materialized from the crowd and tipped his hat slightly, "please forgive me if my poor daughter is causing you tribulation."

"This is your daughter then?" the redheaded woman glanced at the man. "I knew she could not be here on her own."

Ghedlyn felt a surge of mortal terror.

"She can be very excitable around people she does not know," the man explained to the portly woman, while edging toward Ghedlyn, "Excitable girl, aren't you Ghedlyn?!"

"NO!" Ghedlyn shrieked and fled. She needed to run and hide! Moving almost blindly, tears coming to her eyes, she tried to decide what she should do. She did not know or understand what to make of the situation except that she was fully in danger of her life. One logical reason why Rayanne Sedai had wanted her to avoid channeling while they traveled had to been to help her hide. Seizing that one tiny grain of hope, Ghedlyn immediately released her embrace of _saidar_. She had to hide somehow as soon as possible!

"Oh Ghedlyn, if you are going to continue being so disagreeable, you will force me to punish you," the man called after her. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, she really is a good girl!" he told the portly woman.

Ghedlyn ran, pulse-pounding fear a step-and-a-half from completely paralyzing her.


	42. Book 3: Chapter 17

With night completely fallen, fat clouds once again began to sprinkle rain onto the immaculate stone-cut streets of the great city. Crowds rapidly dwindled as people abandoned the open-air in favor of dryness and warmth.

The final white wall surrounding the Tower complex loomed ahead before Sildane even realized it. She panted along after the gray and yellow liveried sedan chair bearers with her mind completely blank. Prancer and Ragabash both clip-clopped in her wake, their whickers and whinnies growing increasingly excited as their goal drew close. Sildane could hardly keep up with the two men hauling the sedan chair heaped with Rayanne Sedai; they ran as if Nordel had dumped glowing hot coals down their pants.

"Wait!" the bronze haired girl gasped. Her knees were shaking. The limits of her endurance were finally within sight. "Sl- slow down."

"Are you woolheaded?" the man leading them replied, "we'll not be stuck with this woman in our hands if she dies."

Breathing hard, Sildane could not respond. The effort spent to avoid stumbling occupied her beyond the capacity for speech.

A great stone-arched gate opened ahead through the white wall onto Tower grounds. To either side of the Tarlomen's Gate stood a Tower guardsman with the white flame on his black tabard, both with their halberds held straight and their helmets polished to perfection. One the guards stepped out to meet them, "Hold! What business have you on the grounds at this hour?"

"My pardon," the lead sedan chair bearer called, "a gaidin passed this woman into our care to bring here with all due haste. It's our heads if she dies."

"Woman?" the guard peered at the woman propped unmoving in the sedan chair, "...Aes Sedai...!" he breathed immediately upon seeing Rayanne Sedai's drawn face.

"She's badly hurt!" Sildane managed to get out despite gasping for breath, "She needs help!"

The two guards shared a glance for the faintest instant. "Hold the gate, I'll go!" one said to the other. "Quickly, this way!" he gestured with his halberd and ran as fast as his feet would carry him up the causeway leading deeper into Tower grounds.

Sildane dragged herself back into motion, barely able to put one shivering foot ahead of the other. The sprinkle of rain cut needles of coolness through her cloak and hair that she could no longer resist.

"Bring help!" the guardsman running ahead of them shouted, "Quickly! Help!" Other guards further along the causeway heard him and took up his cries themselves.

Even having passed the ornate banding of the Tarlomen's Gate, the Tower grounds sprawled away through the rain-soaked night and Sildane felt dismay that the Tower itself seemed no closer. She had fixed the dizzying pinnacle sometimes visible through the fog in her mind as a beacon of hope and it seemed to be retreating like a rainbow. She chased after the two sedan chair bearers as quickly as she could, shivering in the ever-strengthening deluge of rain. Flagstone paths parted at intervals from the main thoroughfare, leading into brilliantly manicured stretches of garden or adjoining with stately buildings decorated with frescoes and columns. Sildane might have placed more interest in the artistry of the vast complex were she not miserable and on the verge of collapse.

Shouts rang ahead of them where the guardsman from the gate had disappeared. The two sedan chair bearers gradually increased their lead ahead of Sildane and Ragabash came so close on her heels that she thought the massive warhorse might actually run her down. She thought dimly that they passed an enormous stable complex crafted of gray rock and illuminated warmly with oil lanterns, but nearly all of her attention was needed simply to keep her feet moving forward, step by painful step. Stableboys watched her pass from the glowing entry, curious about the shouting, but unwilling to throw themselves into the cold spring rain for a closer look.

At last, the causeway opened onto a great plaza-sized square bounded on all sides by beautifully decorated buildings. At the opposing end of the square, steps hewn of marble mounted upward to the entry of the Tower itself.

The White Tower was huge.

Sildane trundled along well behind the two sedan chair bearers, her body steadily growing numb. The clouds had thinned just enough to reveal the massive pinnacle, hundreds of feet tall and enormously wide at the base. The Tower: born from an era when the arts of a lost architecture were dying. The combination of Ogier and Aes Sedai working together intertwined to form a monument to an ancient, legendary world now forgotten. No other construction like this one had been attempted since. Lights shone from windows many spans off the ground. Sildane's head spun gazing upward at the height.

A collection of guards and people who had come both from the buildings and down the steps from the Tower began gathering around the sedan chair bearers and around Sildane. Men and women in servant's livery marked with the White Flame had appeared. Running from the west came a few men who carried the tack of professional grooms; one of these, a man with graying hair and an easy smile, patted Sildane on the back and then gathered the reins of the two horses from her hands. For a moment, Sildane did not want to release her grip. "Not to worry, child," he told her gently, "I know Ragabash and Prancer well. They are in good hands here."

"She needs help..." Sildane gasped, hoping someone would hear her squeak. She wanted these people to do something aside from standing about and gawking in the chilling rain.

The bearers had set the sedan chair down. Sildane dropped to her knees, her eyes fixing again on the Tower. She could go no farther.

A woman glowing with _saidar_ pressed through the crowd, serene and graceful, kept dry from the rain by a simple weave of Air above her head. Her shawl was fringed yellow. People made way immediately upon seeing who was coming through. "Stand back, stand back," the Aes Sedai exclaimed. She spun a second weave of Air, which she used to lift Rayanne Sedai ever so carefully off the sedan chair and then lay her flat on the wet ground.

Someone touched Sildane's shoulder. Her head flew around. Standing over her was a second Aes Sedai, also with a yellow-fringed shawl and using a weave to keep herself dry in the rain.

"Romanda Sedai," Sildane gasped. She knew this Aes Sedai from the periodic visits she made to the farm over the past year.

"Welcome, my child," Romanda Sedai greeted her, then gestured for her to keep her voice down, "Quietly now: where is the other girl? We had no news. For Rayanne to appear now, days late and injured..."

"Missing in the city," Sildane told her, "She got separated from us in a crowd. Nordel went looking for her. She might be in trouble."

Romanda Sedai's severe, ageless face made no adjustment in expression. The woman radiated a power of confidence and serenity vastly greater even than Rayanne Sedai on her haughtiest day. Sildane knew that the strands of gray in her hair bespoke long experience. Romanda turned to face her warder, "Gather a few of your fellows whom you fully trust--but only those associated with the Yellow. You know what the child looks like. Aid Nordel if possible and bring her back as quietly as you can." The warder nodded once and loped away as silently as a hunting hound, his color-shifting cloak soon blending his lethal shape into the shadows.

The other Yellow Aes Sedai, now gracefully stooped beside her prone sister, wove Delving and set to work on Rayanne Sedai. Romanda Sedai again touched Sildane's shoulder. Sildane glanced upward when she realized that the senior Aes Sedai had extended her Air shield to shelter Sildane from the drenching rain. Sildane had not recognized until that moment how much of the wetness on her face actually stemmed from tears.

The Aes Sedai Delving Rayanne shook her head, "So much trouble from such a simple wound."

Sildane cringed, suddenly very afraid. She had held out hope since the attack on the road that her mentor would be made whole again if they reached the Tower quickly enough. "Will she..." she gasped to Romanda Sedai.

The woman tending Rayanne Sedai placed her hands on either side of Rayanne's head in her matted golden hair and wove Healing. Sildane realized from her deftness and speed that this woman was even better at the weave than Sildane's mentor. Rayanne Sedai's gem-blue eyes snapped open and her body arched off the ground, shaking violently. A strange hissing breath emitted from her gaping mouth. When the woman released her, she fell flat again and lay still. Nobody spoke in the surrounding crowd.

"Is she...?" Sildane asked, "Will she...?" She wished she knew enough about Healing to be able to weave it in the manner of that Yellow Ajah sister.

"She will live," the sister said for everyone to hear. Standing up, she wove a structure of Air and lifted Rayanne Sedai carefully off the ground. "But, for now she needs to rest. She may be pleased to wake in her own rooms." Using the Air weave, the Aes Sedai bore Rayanne away in the direction of the White Tower.

With Rayanne Sedai gone, Ragabash and Prancer taken by the groom in some direction she did not see and even the sedan chair bearers--whose names she did not know--missing in the already dispersing crowd, Sildane abruptly realized how alone she was. Her mother had been with her the last time she came to this place. Now, she was sitting in the rain, alone in this great square, awaiting her fate. Brushing a coil of soaked bronze hair out of her eyes, she tried to decide what to do next. Romanda Sedai still hovered over her, but Sildane knew the woman probably had other, more pressing duties than holding the hand of a wayward child. Sildane wished she could help look for Ghedlyn, but knew she would only risk getting lost herself in the enormity of Tar Valon.

"Have you prepared yourself, girl?" Romanda Sedai asked her. "Rayanne told me you also have made remarkable progress over the past year."

"I- I don't know," Sildane stammered, then hastily added, "...Aes Sedai." Rayanne Sedai had spent hours drilling her in the proper etiquette of Novice behavior and it had not occurred to her until she noticed the aged Aes Sedai's lack of expression that now would be the time to start applying her knowledge.

"You knew the time would come," Romanda Sedai reminded her, "If you are to become Aes Sedai, you must meet what lies ahead without averting your eyes or buckling under the strain."

"I am... aware of that, Aes Sedai," Sildane bowed her head. "I... Aes Sedai... was hoping to help in the search for..."

"That is not your place, now, I fear. For the moment, you will keep everything that has transpired during your trip to yourself, especially about your young friend. For you, it is time to be certain that Rayanne has not been remiss in your education." The stately Yellow Aes Sedai turned and addressed a young woman who had been waiting silently nearby, "Duvella?"

"Yes Aes Sedai?" the young woman bobbed a curtsy. Sildane saw that she wore white, but with a band of seven colors along the hems of her dress, marking her Accepted.

Romanda nodded approvingly, apparently pleased that the girl had waited for her all this time, "I would like you to bring Sildane to the Mistress of Novices. Her name is to be written in the novice book before the evening is finished. Sildane, child, I expect to see you in white when next we meet." She folded her arms in unhurried fashion and glided back toward the entrance of the White Tower.

"As you wish, Aes Sedai," Duvella bobbed another curtsy as the Aes Sedai departed.

"Aes Sedai," Sildane bowed her head. Everything with Rayanne Sedai had always been so informal, as if she were nothing more than a respected family member. Practicing the forms of obeisance demanded by the Tower would not be a quick adjustment.

The rain abruptly fell again on Sildane. She had not forgotten that Romanda's rain shield had been keeping her dry, but she sorely felt its sudden absence. She felt so cold. With a heavy and comfortable sigh, Sildane embraced the source, half-intent on using one of Ghedlyn's weaves to protect herself from the falling water.

"You shouldn't do that!" Duvella suddenly stopped her, placing a hand on her arm.

"What?!" Sildane jumped in surprise. She immediately released _saidar_, as if bitten by a particularly pernicious snake.

Duvella smiled a crooked smile, "You have not even had training yet; the Aes Sedai prefer that new novices only channel when there is someone there to guide them. So many things might go wrong if you slip! I do not know what you may understand--some wilders come in knowing some small trick or another--but you should keep from practicing it until we are certain you are properly trained."

"I'm s-sorry," Sildane managed to squeak out. What a way to get started!

Duvella stooped down and put her arm through Sildane's, then helped her off the ground. She bore the wet no more happily than Sildane, it seemed. The young woman, at least ten years older than Sildane, stood Sildane's height. She was not beautiful, with a crooked face and an overbite, but her green-gray eyes seemed welcoming and filled to bubbling with humor. "Come, let's get you inside. This spring rain certainly catches you, huh?"

Sildane could only shiver in response. Her teeth had begun to chatter.

"Everybody knows the Tower, of course," Duvella said, continuing to chat amicably, "you saw the South stables walking in, no doubt. The West Stables are even larger: now that's a lot of horses! The Guardsmen's barracks are over there, where many of the warders stay. Oh Light, you should see them when they're out in their practice yard! Enough to melt a Red if they ever stopped to look. Back over that way is the Tower Library. Must be the biggest collection of books in the world, if that's your thing. Lots of Browns end up living there, so you'll see plenty of it when some sister or another sets you to an errand. The Accepted quarters are in the West wing from the Tower while the novice quarters are in the East, this way. The servants had a couple rooms cleaned this morning I think; I heard a rumor that the sisters were expecting a couple new novices a day or two ago. Maybe that was you! But, we'll figure that out. First, we must see the Mistress of Novices. Then, maybe we can dry you and find you some white."

The remarkable pace with which Duvella spoke seemed hardly to break even for breathing once she got started. Sildane felt cross-eyed with the torrent of information hitting her in such rapid order. Her body was telling her it wanted to rest, but she commanded her aching legs to walk on anyway. She stifled a yawn so as not to seem impolite.

"Oh, you must be positively famished, too. I'll take you down to the kitchen once we get you out of that bloody rag you are wearing--ooo, that sounded like a curse, but that is blood, isn't it? Must have been a pretty dress too, before it got ruined..."

Casting her mind away from the wet and cold, Sildane could not help but wonder about Ghedlyn. Was she all right? She hoped Nordel would find her quickly.


	43. Book 3: Chapter 18

Hand at sword hilt, Nordel forced his way through the entry into the Sultry Rose with a few well-placed glares. Tonight of all nights, he would brook no argument from anyone. Rayanne languished within him, bleeding blackness into his mood. If she slipped that final step, he did not know if it would matter whether the body in front of him was that of his enemy or not.

He knew the Sultry Rose well; they sold some of the best ale and regularly hosted both respectable court bards and gleemen passing through Tar Valon. Before Rayanne's mission of healing involving a certain young girl and a Tower farm, some six years past, this place had been one of Nordel's favored haunts whenever he found spare time. A ditty strummed on his harp could persuade nearly any musician into a smiling duet, even if they started out intimidated by his cruelly patterned face. Nordel did not know how many new songs he gleaned from masters here, even though he had never once actually played upon that stage himself--when the night got going, music flew from every corner and Nordel had long since deviated from the path of the stage. Becoming masterful enough to stand over an audience had never been his heart's desire. A shame: his first visit to the Sultry Rose after so many years and he had not come to reacquaint himself with the ambience.

The warder pushed through well-dressed young Tar Valoner men and women, not caring who he threw out of his way. A few nearly favored him with a curse or two, until they recognized the confidence in his step or froze under the expression on his face. One quick scan of the greatroom revealed no obvious Aes Sedai or other gaidin, much to his dismay. The more assistance he could recruit, the more likely nothing would befall Ghedlyn this night. Green sisters and their warders frequented the Sultry Rose to dance and carouse as only idle Green sisters could, but no such luck favored Nordel this night.

"The Light shine upon us!" called a portly flame-headed woman with a high crested nose and a delighted smile. She needed nearly to shout to make herself heard over the singer on stage and the crowd gleefully crooning support, "And the wind blew a grumpy face back to our port! Nordel! How long has it been?"

Nordel managed to sigh and roll his eyes, clenching back his inflammatory glare just long enough. No regular patron of the Sultry Rose would fail to recognize its hostess. "Keria," Nordel said, greeting the kindly woman with a familiar embrace.

"So many years, Nordel," she laughed happily, "and you vanished so suddenly!"

"My lady," Nordel bowed his head, "catching up with you over a tall drink would bring joy to my heart, but I fear I pass by on business tonight."

"A shame," Keria intoned, clenching her face into a mock scowl that her bright eyes could not echo. "Might I offer our help?"

"I seek a young girl with black hair carrying a large book. She is quite a mess to look at."

"Then she was a runaway!" Keria crowed triumphantly, clapping Nordel on his shoulder, "I thought as much, with her all in white! I saw that rascal just a few moments ago. I wonder if that man was truly her father...?"

"Man with a black beard and a hat?" Nordel tested carefully.

"Of course, do you know him?" Keria asked. "He seemed so familiar to me, though I am uncertain from where I know his face."

Nordel nodded, his impatience bursting through clenched teeth, "Did he take the girl?"

"No," Keria shook her head, "sadly not. She ran out screaming. Upset a few of my customers along the way. I offered to send a few of my boys with the fellow in the hat, but he refused our aid."

"She went through the back, then," Nordel reasoned, "or else I would have seen or heard her in the front."

"Over the noise of this crowd?" Keria scoffed, emphasizing that she needed to raise her voice just for Nordel to clearly distinguish her words. "I doubt most of the greatroom ever knew she passed..."

"You are my savior, Keria," Nordel told her with a quick pat to her hand. He swung around toward for the back of the tavern greatroom, "If that girl returns this way, hold her for me and no one else."

"Naturally, Gaidin," she stressed the title, "when have I ever been anything but a patriot for Tar Valon? Provided you relinquish that venomous glare, I will hold you to that drink..."

Nordel needed to clamp down on his anger as he hurried away. If Keria had held the girl rather than allowing her to escape, matters this night would be far different.

He pressed through the crowd and past the stage. He recognized the woman on stage in the red dress with the powerful voice as Lumiale and did the tiniest double take, needing to remind himself of his duty. Lumiale had been a girl Ghedlyn's size, with a squeaky, faltering voice when last he saw her. Amidst her singing, not one phrase or note forgotten, Lumiale favored him with a nod and a little wave when she noticed him in the crowd. The change wrought by six years was stunning. Nordel returned the nod and forced himself to continue on his way. He wondered offhand what six years would do to Ghedlyn--to his mind, the girl had barely changed at all in the time he had known her, except to grow steadily in height and become ever more strange.

The tall, cruel-faced warder passed out of the greatroom, went by the tavern kitchen and through the storeroom with its casks of mead and ale and wine. He remembered the way to the back entrance from years past, though found it remarkable how odd ends had been rearranged. He knew the face of one cook in the kitchen, but could not place it with a name. The man smiled at him amicably, but did not hail a greeting.

The back entrance to the tavern opened into an alley between buildings. Rain beat down steadily from oppressively lowered clouds. The doorway was partially sheltered by a slanted half-roof to afford some protection from the elements, but Nordel could feel the drifting moisture on his lips even though he was not hit directly by the rain when he emerged and closed the door behind him. A single swaying oil lamp hung from the corner of the half-roof and cast its weak glow off the lonely walls of the alley.

Pulling up the cowl of his cloak, Nordel glanced both directions and steeled himself for a dash through the drizzle. Ghedlyn could have set off either direction down the passage and Nordel had a single chance in two of striking out blindly along the same path. He looked east, then west, gathering to bet. A cask on its side, rolling very slowly, almost unnoticeably, tapped against the wall of the building. It had been overturned recently and set to motion. The warder instantly took off that direction, running at full tilt with his gangly legs.

The signs lay bare for those eyes able to see, and Nordel's vision was that of a bonded warder. One crate was just receiving its first spatters of rain on a side formerly covered, marking it newly tumbled. The warder followed the evidence: an upset crate here or an overturned cask there, rubbish strewn where no one in his or her right mind would leave it. He heard someone call out ahead over the patter of rain and heard exchanged shouts. The trail opened at his feet, thinly disguised.

He sprinted following the echo of voices whose words he could not distinguish.

The mouth of the alley yawned onto a cobblestone thoroughfare, the very same street toward the Tower up which Nordel sent Rayanne with Sildane and the sedan chair bearers. Unlike when they passed before, the road stood nearly devoid of people. He felt for Rayanne on impulse and found her thankfully alive--lingering, but alive.

"Stop there!" ahead, two liveried Tower guards had surrounded a man in a dark cloak with a brimmed hat. Nordel recognized the Tower guard with the thicker body as guardsman Pinot, whose assistance he recruited scant minutes before.

Ghedlyn had to be close! Running toward the three men confronting each other in the open street, Nordel scanned the other alley entrances and building fronts nearby in hope of noticing the small girl. He did not see her.

"Do not move!" Pinot held unsheathed a curved sword that he flicked eagerly and the other guard bore a halberd with the sharp end directed menacingly at the man with the pointed beard.

"Hee! And you will stop me?" the cornered man tipped his hat.

"Back off!" Nordel shouted, registering the intent behind subtle movement and attempting to warn the two guardsmen.

A straight sword emerged from the gray cloak like a flash of lightning through the rain. Nordel could have followed Panther Spins On Ice and immediately recognized the double-edged sword style, but the guardsman holding the halberd could not. The man in the brimmed hat guided the flexible, razor-sharp blade in a spiral that skidded shavings riding down the halberd shaft and found soft spots in the gauntleted hands supporting the long weapon. The guardsman yelped in surprise and pain as his weapon fell away from him, one of his hands still clamped to it. The gray cloak whirled around the two men in a version of Marionette's Dance executed with a graceful Auger Step. Handled as deftly as a painter's brush, the razor sharp blade slipped in at the armpit and the double-edged point emerged again at the juncture of neck and shoulder on the opposite side. The man with the brimmed hat was off and running almost before the body fell, having freed his slender sword with a skillful reversal of Panther Spins On Ice and flipped a trail of blood away from the blade.

"Marn!" Pinot flung himself at his falling comrade.

"After him!" Nordel boomed, still many long strides short of the scene, "do not let him out of sight!"

With a furious grunt, Pinot dragged himself into motion past his comrade, who sprawled out bonelessly onto the rain soaked street. Nordel had to admire Pinot for clamping down his obvious initial reaction.

The man in the brimmed hat paused at an alley entrance and glanced over his shoulder at those pursuing him. "Hoo, hoo!" he grinned, his beady eyes fixing on Nordel before he turned and fled. Nordel knew immediately that he was being toyed with. The man was not about to kill Ghedlyn until Nordel was standing right there to watch.

"Blood and ashes, bloody, lightblinded bastard, I will have your heart!" Pinot screamed after the man, his sword held over his head. He reached the opening to the alley a handful of paces after his intended target and paused at the mouth.

"Come to me then, pig," Nordel heard the response from the man he could no longer see, "let us discover whose thirst will slake and who will smile at the throat!"

"Come back here you bloody coward!" Pinot disappeared into the passage between buildings.

"Keep him in sight, but do not follow him too closely!" Nordel bellowed after the vanished guardsman. The voice of that man had stirred a tingle of recognition in Nordel's mind along with a style of swordsmanship that he knew all-too-well as a variation of his own. The warder barreled on, pumping his legs as quickly as possible in a desperate effort to close the gap, flying past where the second guardsman had fallen and heading on immidately toward the passage where the two men had just disappeared. "Watch for corners, Pinot," he shouted, "he can catch you on corners!"

Nordel reached the mouth of the alley with rainwater and sweat streaming down his face. The night, the storm shower and tight walls clenched the passage almost as tightly as a cave, though Nordel could see Pinot's retreating back up ahead, and could hear the guardsman's feet clapping against wet ground.

"Think you can catch me, Nordel?" that other voice echoed off passage walls, also retreating and taunting his next opponent even as he tempted the first.

Pinot turned a corner up ahead into a new alley that veered leftward from the passage Nordel currently followed. Nordel hurried to reach the intersection in the guardsman's wake, "Watch your throat Pinot! If you stumble blindly you will die, man!"

"Tower guards are admirable, Nordel," came the next reverberating jeer, "But not the quality of warders, you agree? Witches take all the truly marvelous man-flesh for themselves, and leave the dregs to guard the city. Got to love channeling women!"

"Stop running you bloody coward!" Pinot shouted somewhere up ahead, "Bring out your steel and prove your boast!"

"Still panting along at my heels little pig? Root around long enough and you are sure to find a truffle!"

As Nordel reached the dark intersection where Pinot had disappeared, he saw several other men running at him from the opposite direction, also along the passage toward the intersection, "You there, stop! Pinot ordered you to halt!" the man in the lead called to Nordel and loosened his weapon. When Nordel squinted his eyes against the dim light, he could see that they all wore livery of the Tower guard.

Nordel snorted, "Waste no breath threatening me, Pinot is that direction and our enemy is ahead of him!" he pointed up the passage, then turned the corner himself and ran. He could see Pinot's back again, though more distant now.

"G-gaidin!" stammered the guardsman turning into the alley behind Nordel when he realized he had almost drawn his sword on a warder. "Pinot said we were helping one of your number. We heard your shouting, but we could not see you! If only I had known..."

"Apologies later, friend," Nordel called over his shoulder, "run back the direction you came and try to circle around to the north, then come back this way. Pinot and I will have him from this side. We will form the anvil and you the hammer. The girl I am searching for must be ahead. You might meet her first if you come back this way from far enough north...!"

"As you say, gaidin!" the new Tower guards abruptly vanished as they retreated on their tracks to follow Nordel's instructions.

"Are you trying to become clever with me back there, Nordel?" that gloating voice floated down the narrow passage at him, an annoying biteme beside the rain. "Ha! I shall be amused by what you invent!"

Nordel ran his hardest in hopes of closing range on Pinot. Rubbish he could barely see in the near darkness several times fouled his stride. He had seen no sign of Ghedlyn yet and could not directly see the man in the hat, though it bothered him that maybe that man was working with someone else who remained out of sight and he was even now serving as a decoy to help protect that unknown third party. He hoped Pinot had stirred up enough guardsmen to pad them against the inevitable unknown. Nordel did not particularly believe that Ghedlyn could so quickly travel the amount of ground he and Pinot had already covered in their pursuit of the man with the dark hat.

Abruptly, a wave of dizziness passed through him and forced Nordel to stumble sideways against the alley wall while struggling to keep to his feet. In the corner of his mind, a chilling cold swept over Rayanne and smoothed away the hurt which had become almost eternal. Nordel felt her Healed. Sildane had been successful! He had little time to ponder the dizzying lightness, so he shook his head sharply and began to run again in pursuit of Pinot's back. He could feel Rayanne unconscious still, though her Healing would mean word had reached the White Tower of Ghedlyn's predicament. If Sildane spoke to the right Aes Sedai, other warders would be on their way shortly.

Ahead, Pinot gave a sharp, surprised cry and fell.

"Oh, what a shame!" Nordel could see the dim silhouette of the man in the hat standing over the fallen guardsman and immediately guessed what had transpired. "You did warn him, Nordel. You did warn him! Such a jovial fellow; he looks nice smiling like that!"

Breathing hard and still trying to contain his euphoria over the curing of Rayanne, Nordel drew up to a walk and dared venture no closer to his enemy than several long paces. His enemy's sword glimmered wetly in faint lamp light cast from a window in a building overlooking the alley.

Nordel was wary of that sword. A single grip, double-edged straight sword was not a weapon of obvious advantage and formed instead a measure of the man carrying it. While it lacked the range of a halberd, pike or spear and could not block solidly like a saber or a single-edged broadsword nor sweep aside heavier weapons like its larger, thicker, double-handed cousin, it provided its wielder with an incredible agility that few other weapons could begin to match. Well trained touch drove the flexible blade to move and curve and breathe with its user, slipping around defenses where most other weapons sought merely to plug a hole. In the correct hands, its insidious capabilities set lie to its simplistic design. It was a weapon that demanded both the greatest finesse and best judgement. Where a beginner with this sword posed a threat to no one but himself, the master of such a blade could cut down anyone unaware. A man walking onto the field of battle with that sword could either be taken for a great fool or a deadly enemy. Having already seen this man in motion, Nordel did not believe him a fool.

Straight sword held in reverse grip with the flat of the blade extending along his forearm, the man stooped down to touch the throat of the fallen Pinot with two fingers. "Ah, that would be the last heartbeat there. You know this weapon, old friend: you warned him!" he glanced vaguely at Nordel, a ghost of a smile barely visible on his lips in the near darkness. Nordel could make out the scar on his cheek over the pointed black beard and tried again desperately to place the familiar voice, "I had hoped for months that this job would bring about our meeting and it is a disappointment to find you wearing such a blank look when at last we stand face to face."

"Where is the girl?" Nordel demanded.

"Right to the point!" the fellow chuckled dryly, "You have not changed at all, harperboy. How about it, a few minutes to reminisce?"

"I asked you where the girl is. I have no breath to waste on you if you seek only to deter me," Nordel responded, taking a couple steps in a circle around his enemy. He felt at the hilt of his own weapon, ready for the lunge that would come at any moment.

"The rabbit? She has run away like the wind!" the man chuckled, "but she is close here, I know that. I was so hoping to put strips of her onto your plate so that we might dine, but she ran away so fast. I fear I shall have to pick up the scent again soon. Perhaps after we cross blades."

Crouched beside the body of the guardsman, the bearded man sprang into action with a dazzling suddenness, his feet sure despite the puddles and still-falling rain. Body low and blade tip piercing forward in brilliant version of Viper's Toothy Strike, he exploded his range by two-fold on the instant and covered the distance into Nordel's kill radius in a single move.

His own sword hissing from its scabbard, Nordel played the Maiden's Lute with a bit of a rakish flip and slid barely aside so his attacker's blade passed into his cloak and not his body. Sparks jumped in the darkness as the two swords raked past one another, sliding and slipping and never solidly blocking. Blade looping around blade while he stepped in and ducked under his opponent's second countering thrust, Nordel used his own version of Panther Spins On Ice, feinting low toward his enemy's shins before spinning high, blade locked to his opponent's through the whole motion. On the way up, he gripped the elbow of his opponent's blade arm with his free hand to unbalance the man while angling his blade tip back down in Eagle Stoops From The Sun aimed at his opponent's exposed throat.

A sharp jab of electrical pain flashed through Nordel's free arm as his enemy stripped his hold with a knuckle strike to a soft point in his forearm just below the elbow. The throat opening disappeared in a breath and the tide of battle reversed just as quickly. His Eagle Stoop shifted aside by deft pressure from his opponent's sword, Nordel needed to Auger Step just to stay in contact, or face getting skewered.

Their swords swept low, both men looping blade around blade, sliding and subtly carrying, each minute feint gauged to draw one or the other into over-commitment. Nordel felt the other man's knee rise before he saw the kick and looped his sword to meet his adversary's Raise The Mountain up-thrust where the kick would only be the first attack before the killing steel to follow. Their blades sparked as they twined and glided across one another again, Nordel rotating his body to avoid the side-thrust kick and managing to slam a low thrust of his own into his opponent's grounded leg. The other man nearly permitted his leg to take the brunt of the thrust, but landed his kicking foot almost simultaneously and switched his root to that side, allowing Nordel's thrust to pass through his now free leg without actually absorbing the strike. His blade had swerved high and darted back in over them both in another Eagle Stooping maneuver that would have taken Nordel in the temple were his own blade not in contact with it and guiding the attack away, less than a hand's breadth to the side. Their blades sparked a final time as the men spun past one another and settled to circling, both of them in a more conventional Cat Crosses The Yard stride.

"Beautiful countering kick," the man was grinning, though he obviously switched the balance of his circling step to help stretch out the leg Nordel had impacted.

"Renard? Is that you?" Nordel asked softly, processing the strategy and combinations into a person he had not seen in years. His forearm still smarted from his opponent's surgical strike and he waved it out to help restore the feeling. "I thought you were dead..."

"I seem to hear that quite a lot," the man responded, again with the dry chuckle, "It is so pleasing to see your recollection dawn at last. Is it true you refused to test for the Heron? Your skills certainly have not ebbed in Tower thrall."

"I might choose to tell you about it some day," Nordel shook his head, "But I might have trouble forgetting that you just tried to punch a hole in my temple. That scar is new Renard, and the beard."

"So is your shaven pate, old friend." Renard responded, "Fewer people probably took you for a thug with a full head of hair."

"It was thinning anyway. I saw no reason to keep it," Nordel explained cautiously. He did not allow his guard to slip in full awareness that Renard would strike the instant he saw advantage, despite their familiarity.

Shouts came from between buildings, approaching steadily from the northeast.

"That would be the Tower guard," Renard commented, not taking his eyes off Nordel. "A shame. If I were to handle them and you at once, the odds would not fall quite so generously in my favor. It seems I will be unable to share my new tricks with you this once." Renard's sword disappeared beneath his cloak and he turned lightly to flee.

"Do not count this finished just yet," Nordel sprang to follow, sword still raised.

Taking two steps, Renard agily leaped atop a stone wall and dropped over the other side out of sight, "Hoo hoo! You need not be so stiff, harperboy. The rabbit is still out there to find! There will be another day for us!"

Nordel sheathed his own sword and threw himself up onto the wall after the man. As he lifted his body to jump down the other side, he saw the tail of Renard's cloak vanishing around the corner of another building in the dimness and rain.

Nordel sighed and tried to decide if the effort spent chasing Renard would result in more deaths or perhaps, more importantly, distract from the search for Ghedlyn. The Renard he remembered had relished every opportunity to cause grief and this man seemed no different all these years later. Nordel sat down on the lip of the wall in the rain; chasing Renard now would be more trouble than it was worth. He did not think Renard knew where Ghedlyn was, but the other man would definitely be searching for her and obviously had some idea where she might be hiding, even if she had escaped him for the moment. At least Ghedlyn would run toward Nordel if he came close enough to her and would flee Renard in the same circumstance. If the girl could somehow be made to realize her innate self-defense potential, the entire situation would dramatically change, but Nordel was not certain he wanted to bet on such long odds.

Scraping and tripping through rubbish in the alley below, a Tower guard called him, "Gaidin, is that you up there?"

"I am," Nordel said, glancing down into the alley from his perch. Three Tower guards together seemed like pale splotches in the gloom.

"Where is the man we were after? Do you need help?"

"We are not looking for him," Nordel told them, "he's a distraction. We need to find the girl. And soon!"

"The girl? Right, right," the guard responded.

"Talbin, it's Pinot!" one of the other guards down in the alley cried out.

"Blood and ashes! Marn and Pinot! Two tonight!"

"We need to find the girl," Nordel dropped down from the wall into the alley.

"But we should go after Pinot's killer, gaidin," the guard protested.

"The man that killed him used to be a warder," Nordel explained angrily to the guard. "On a night like this, with anything less than four blades together, the like of you after him will not stand any more chance than Pinot did!"


	44. Book 3: Chapter 19

In the length of her tiny life, Ghedlyn did not remember ever being so terrified. Rain beating down on her, streaming into her eyes, down her nose and gagging her as she inhaled it, she could see nothing but a world of dark blurs. She had barely been able to protect her precious book in her cloak and yearned desperately to dry it with the power, though she dared not embrace the source. She would not give herself away. The pain of the tree came physically back to her, as if exploding in her face over and over again. Having voided her bladder in fright as she ran, she also felt deep humiliation and self-recrimination. At least the rain soaking her head to foot would hide her failure of self-control. 

She had seen the blade in the woman's hand when she exited the door from the noisy place where the people were dancing, the man with the beard only a moment or two behind her. No knife had ever been as cruelly curved or threatening as the blade glinting in the new rain under light of the swaying oil lantern. The woman lunged for her and grabbed at her wrist, setting into Ghedlyn such panic that she never even saw the woman's face. Ghedlyn remembered screaming and trying desperately to lift the book between herself and the incoming weapon. The blow threw her backward off her feet and the blade came out of the woman's hands. The weapon penetrated the thick leather cover of her favorite book and into the soft pages beneath, but went no further. Scrambling and kicking as someone tried to grab her feet, she somehow stood and managed to run. The weapon, knocked from where it lodged in the book by her desperate struggling, clattered to the ground in her wake.

The flight had been entirely blind, through stiffening rain and intensifying cold. Shouts rose behind her; the man with the pointed beard and gray cloak, the woman who came at her with the knife and others she did not know. She ran absolutely without direction as quickly as her feet could carry her away from the terror and despair. With the rain falling again, the streets of the great city had emptied of people and transformed into a vast array of alien surfaces that Ghedlyn did not recognize. Aware that her life had only just been saved by the book she carried, she did everything in her power to protect her one defense from the falling water and wrapped the tome as deeply in her cloak as possible to keep it dry. She knew only that she needed to run and then hide. Without Sildane or Rayanne Sedai or Nordel or Papa, she could rely on no one but herself.

She ran on and on and on, propelled by a sure knowledge that she would die if she did not. She turned at every corner in random directions, veering left and right in hopes of putting some barrier between herself and the clamor of feet yet behind her. She had no idea where she was and could not see through the sheets of rainfall to tell where she was going. Her breathing ragged and her limbs shaking uncontrollably, she finally collapsed under the exertion and crashed into a pile of garbage. As a wooden box of horseshoes clattered across the ground along with smelly refuse, Ghedlyn struggled hopelessly to pull herself back up and continue, but found she could not. Her body no longer listened to her. Her flawless logic insisted that if she left behind her precious-yet-heavy book, she might stand a chance, but she simply could not make that decision. Unable to place her feet back beneath her in order to run and unable to part from the book that slowed her down, Ghedlyn lay in the piled garbage shivering.

She could hear voices nearby over the steady staccato of raindrops, "This way! I think I saw this way!" The woman's words were light and well spoken, her accent anything but coarse. "I do not hear her anymore!"

Shaking but otherwise unable to move Ghedlyn curled herself into a ball around her book and struggled not to flinch or breathe. She thought her shivering might be too loud.

"There!" the woman exclaimed sharply. "Look!"

Cringing, Ghedlyn heard a grunt and a profanity. She was certain her final refuge had indeed become final.

"Wha' do-ya wan', bloody bastar..," slurred a male voice in irritation.

"Filthy cur!" the woman barked. "Enough drink to sink a ship..."

"They are all over here, lady," said another man, very nearby, his voice cool and evenly modulated. "That is why this is called the Beggar's Circle."

"We have little enough time. That warder protecting the girl spurred out the Tower guard on us and Renard --the fool-- will probably kill one or two for sport. Such luck as I can barely imagine if he has not dragged the whole Tower down on us by morning. I will give him an earful when he comes skulking back. His mistress should more often punish her faithful hound." The woman spat in anger.

"No time to argue," the calm man reminded her, "You look that way. I'll go this way. We will have trouble enough finding the girl under these conditions."

Ghedlyn squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her mouth closed in order to stifle her gasping breath. She willed herself to be invisible. Every taunt lobbed at her by the sandy-haired boy Alibet came back to her: Turtlegirl who does nothing but hide. She hoped against hope that it would be enough. She willed herself to be a hole in space, a vacancy amid the trash.

"Filthy beggars," the woman grumbled, her voice farther away. "If the girl had any sense, she ran on without a second sniff."

Trash shifted nearby, rustling, rattling. Ghedlyn wished her thundering heart would quiet; certainly everybody in the world would be able to hear it. Three footsteps in puddles, then more rustling. "Blood and ashes!" someone croaked, "my cloak!"

"Your pardon ser, my mistake," the calm man droned, only sounding half concerned that he had disturbed anyone.

More shuffling echoed off the wall of the building. Ghedlyn dared not move, but she wanted badly to clap her hands over her ears. She held the book so tightly against her chest that her ribs hurt. She tried to remember Sildane's arms wrapped around her body, like when they had hidden from the bandits off the side of the road after the attack on Rayanne Sedai. She remembered the room after the tree exploded in her face, and imagined herself hiding under the covers and in a warm, safe bed, with Rayanne Sedai lecturing Sildane not two arm lengths away.

"Ugh!" came a grunt. The pile of trash actually seemed to move, "Lee' me 'lone," someone mumbled almost straight into Ghedlyn's ear, the exhalation reeking of drink and urine. If she made the slightest motion now, she would die. She held her breath, willing herself to be nothing.

"Your pardon," the calm man uttered again, standing so close as to loom almost directly over her.

She did not move.


	45. Book 3: Chapter 20

For Sildane, the night drew out into an eternity. Lying on the lumpy pallet, staring blankly up at the ceiling, she kept wondering if this would be her new home. A small fire barely sufficient to cut the chill danced on the lonely hearth, casting macabre orange ripples across the plain plaster walls. The room she shared with her mother back in the farm manor had been several times larger than this one, and with a small window. Loneliness impinged as strongly as both the cold and the dark.

Her arrival at the Tower had been accompanied by a flurry of purposeful activity, as if she were coal being shoveled into the hopper of an ancient furnace. After the Healing in the square, she saw no more of Rayanne Sedai. Her Aes Sedai--she had not realized the thought had become possessive. The separation felt as keenly as if her mother had deserted her. Duvella, though nice enough and chatty as a milkmaid, hurried her straight off to meet the Mistress of Novices, still sopping wet and stricken with fear. Latel Sedai, a frumpy, barely-kept woman who wore a plain brown dress that looked as if cut from a barley sack, gazed her up and down with measuring gray eyes. Were it not for the ageless face and the serpent ring on her finger, Sildane would never have figured her an Aes Sedai. But, when Latel Sedai spoke, Sildane found herself stiffly at attention. The woman's appraisal seemed to bore right through her, weighing her with the expertise of a butcher at the cutting block. Sildane found herself signing her name with a quill into the massive leather bound volume within minutes.

Her name, written in the Novice Book.

"That do be a fine hand," the Brown sister spoke, her accent unfamiliar to Sildane, "least while, we be no teaching you anew. There do be many a novice through that door with no hand to speak of at all, or who write with worse than chicken scratchings. Stand straight, though, child, and do no pout so!"

So Sildane found her arms heaped with several white dresses and a few other odd ends the Tower provided newcomers whose names appeared on the novice roster. What possessions she brought, including her ruined dress, Latel Sedai confiscated, saying that the Tower would provide her needs until she either departed or became a permanent resident with an Ajah. The new white dress had been just marginally warmer than the soaked things she parted with, but did not stop her from feeling a draft as she hurried after Duvella along the green and yellow tiled hall with its blue floor runner. Duvella did not permit her a moment to rest or recover her bearings, saying instead that the Tower would not tolerate a dawdling pace from its novices. Good to her word, at least, the verbal Accepted had shown her to the kitchen and helped her acquire a good hunk of bread and a plate of stew to help warm her. The cooks at the farm had always doted on Sildane, but the legion of cooks in the Tower kitchen either took no notice of her at all or seemed to be appraising whether she would have muscle to help clean the giant pots or load wood into the ovens.

Sildane's jaw dropped when Duvella finally brought her to the novice quarters. A colonnaded passage gave way to a massive, circular well that opened straight upward to the rain and sky. There were a dozen balconied levels and hundreds of rooms. A few girls here and there moved along the lower balconies, chatting or walking in and out of doorways. Laughter echoed against stillness and rainfall. Someone gave a squeal, "Accepted!" and several doors slammed simultaneously.

Duvella snorted at that, "As if anyone in the world could doubt they were up to no good."

By the time Duvella deposited Sildane in her own tiny room, Sildane only wanted to throw a blanket over her head and hide away, maybe to sleep. "Oh, you will have to carry wood up for yourself if you wish to stay warm. Trick is to light a piece of tinder from the lamp and to learn to keep your hearth banked with ash through the day. The Aes Sedai forbid the use of channeling for chores and I promise you will learn the strength Latel's arm if you violate that stricture." Once she told Sildane where to find stacks of wood from storage vaults in the east wing, she departed cheerily hoping Sildane would have a comfortable night. Latel Sedai was around to check on her and turn out her oil lamp before Sildane had managed to transport two armloads of wood, having floundered about searching for the storage vault of which Duvella spoke.

Latel shook her head at Sildane, "It do be a long day, the first of a novice in the Tower." She channeled a thread of fire to set Sildane's tiny hearth alight and prefaced the act with, "Do no be expecting such pity in the future, child, that be a fast way out of these halls without a ring."

"Yes, Aes Sedai," Sildane practiced her curtsy.

"Lower, child, lift the skirt so," Latel demonstrated. "When a sister says 'frog' do be the first to hop!"

"Yes, Aes Sedai, thank you Aes Sedai," Sildane repeated the curtsy.

"Rest now child, tomorrow do be among the hardest. You will eat early and find my quarters again before the bell tolls for half past six," the Mistress of Novices instructed, then extinguished the tiny room's lone stand lamp. After she had gone, Sildane stood in the middle of the floor and could hear the Aes Sedai's voice as she interrogated a girl in the next room. She thought she heard the other girl weeping when the Aes Sedai left again.

In her shift and wrapped in the blanket she had just been given, Sildane lay on the lumpy pallet and stared at the ceiling wavering in fire light.

She wanted to ask Rayanne Sedai what would happen now. Unlike her friend, she knew herself in a position no different from countless other girls since the construction of the Tower so long ago. Some girls came to this place hoping somehow to rise to the status of Aes Sedai, but unaware of the work it would take. So many girls had signed the novice book before her, or been signed in. Against the silence, she thought she could hear the murmuring of a hundred generations of young women occupying this very room before her. And here she was, uncertain what came next and petrified that she would be unequal to it.

She had already been able to channel prior to signing the novice book: the Aes Sedai would not let her free now until they knew her safe to set loose in the world. The truth was barely beginning to sink in that she really was just another novice, lying in a novice's room, dressed in novice white, faced with novice prohibitions. Rayanne Sedai had been very lax at controlling when and where Sildane channeled since the stimulus helped bring Ghedlyn more under control, though it had always been understood that her mentor would be nearby, watching. Things would be different now, especially if she were separated from Ghedlyn. Ghedlyn had always been a sort of safety net. Sildane wondered if she would be remaining behind at the Tower if Ghedlyn was taken away.

Long hours spooled out and she could not sleep. She meandered between worrying about her own fate and wondering whether Nordel had been able to find her friend. Would they bring Ghedlyn to the novice quarters if they found her at this hour of the night? Given the sheer size of the White Tower, could Ghedlyn already be someplace near and Sildane not know it? Romanda Sedai had basically told her not to worry about Ghedlyn and to keep silent about her friend upon questioning. She strained her ears against the quiet, hoping to hear someone bringing her friend in: not familiar with this place, Ghedlyn would probably be a screaming wreck. When she heard feet on stone outside her little room, several times, she crawled across the cold floor wrapped in her blanket and opened the door just a crack to peek out. She saw no more than a woman or man in servant's livery moving along the balconies. One of the times she peeked, she saw two girls sneaking past with a candle between them. She could sense small channeling not far away and wondered if it might be some novice playing with the flows despite rules to the contrary. Certainly, this time of night would be safest.

She moved her pallet closer to the hearth so that warmth from the fire would reach her. Not that she had far to move it, or much to displace in order to make the rearrangement. The bell tolled four and even five, with no sign of her friend. She yawned, but still could not sleep.

When the bell tolled six, she had finally given up even the notion of recumbence, and had already dressed and tidied herself as best she could for whatever lay ahead. In the dim morning light, as she stepped onto the white-marble balcony and closed the door to her little room, she marveled again at the immensity of the novice quarters and the peaceful quiet. Birds chirped in the small garden a level down. Sildane had not realized the presence of a garden here when Duvella brought her in the night before, but sure access to the sky begged for growing things. It seemed odd that this place held such quiet and stillness, but only a few white dressed girls were visible leaving their rooms.

Sildane found her way back to the kitchens after nearly losing herself in the winding passages of the east wing. Her exhaustion the night before clouded some of her recollections from the trip with Duvella and she felt barely rested after the sleepless night. Was Ghedlyn well? She pushed the worry aside. The cooks directed her to the dining hall, where small collections of girls and young women in novice white or wearing the colored bands of Accepted were already eating. Not knowing anyone, Sildane ended up eating alone, so she ate quickly and hurried back into the hallway maze hoping she would not be late for her morning meeting with the Mistress of Novices.

Latel Sedai did not seem a hair changed from the night before, as if time simply flowed around her and could not touch her to leave her more disheveled. Her agelessness surrounded her like a cloak. When Sildane appeared at the study with dark wood paneling on the walls and plain, sturdy furniture, the Brown sister immediately sat her down and began to lecture. Sildane could not help but think that novices from hundreds of years ago had probably been in exactly this position, hearing almost the same speech. Latel Sedai outlined how Sildane would spend her days and gave her several periods of chores working in the kitchen. She did not miss the Aes Sedai's tacit threat about what would happen if she ever became slack at her duties. Finally, the Mistress of Novices told Sildane what she would be studying, when she would attend lectures and how she was expected to perform. By the time the woman had finished, Sildane realized that her entire day was chocked full of chores, class and study with almost nothing resembling free time for herself.

"It do be best if a girl breaks early," Latel Sedai told her, "long before a shawl is settled upon her shoulders. Accepted do be free to pursue studies on their own, if you should make it so far."

"I- I understand Aes Sedai," Sildane answered, trying consign herself to what seemed like years of outright torture in the offing.

When she dismissed Sildane to her first period of chores, the Aes Sedai spoke again offhand as Sildane reached the study door, "The other girl being brought by the Yellow, the two of you do be friends?"

Sildane stumbled over how to reply. Romanda Sedai had been specific in her instructions, but she expected Latel Sedai would hear a lie instantly. "We know each other... Di- did they find her?"

"Then they do be missing her?" Latel said to herself, "What do be so important of one child soon to don the white that would put so many warders out into a city the size of Tar Valon the length of a night?"

Sildane swallowed. So, they had not found Ghedlyn yet and Latel Sedai had not been told she was missing. Of course, it would be common knowledge that an Aes Sedai had been brought to the Tower injured the night before. Sildane felt like a rabbit caught in a carefully laid noose.

"You need no answer, child," Latel replied when she saw how carefully Sildane was forming her response, "Off with you now! You do have a day ahead of you, and it do be but the first of many. We may speak again another time regarding your friend."

And so Sildane gained an entirely new perspective of what it meant to work in a kitchen. Dozens of cooks and stewards bustled around the massive, steam-fogged chamber, moving plate-settings or silverware, tending cleaning and cooking huge quantities of sumptuous-smelling food, fish or beef or chicken or any of a hundred other dishes. She spent several hours under the supervision of a chubby, white haired cook named Ballentine scrubbing burned stew from a cauldron large enough to accommodate her seated without elbowing the sides. Once she finished with the cauldron, Ballentine had her feeding spit-dogs, then loading wood into a bin for use later in a huge bread oven. Ballentine smiled after her and seemed always to be at her own duties, but never once lost track of what Sildane was doing. Finally, with Sildane up to her arms in dirty silverware, the woman appeared with a towel to help her dry off, "You have a class now, yes? Latel Sedai instructed that I be certain you found your way in ample time. But, you will be back here once you finish! We have much to do preparing for the lunch!"

Sildane rubbed her arms as she left the kitchen, her muscles already aching after just this first session. Another girl in novice white with rusty hair in long ringlets and a freckled face noticed her as she departed and spared her a gap-toothed grin.

While she hurried along the corridor, covered here by a satin red runner over blue and gray floor tiles and the wall-hangings still depicting winter scenes, she realized that she had been so busy in the kitchen that her concerns had temporarily evaporated. The notion immediately dredged out anxieties accumulated over the past few days. She choked up on the thought that she had not seen Ghedlyn or Rayanne Sedai or Nordel or anyone else she knew since the night before. What if she never saw any of them again? The sudden burst of emotion nearly overwhelmed her, but she schooled herself bitterly and tried to keep on exactly as the Tower expected of a new novice. A Novice novice? Latel Sedai's lecture continued to ring fresh in her mind. She hoped Ghedlyn remained in one piece, wherever she was.

After taking one wrong turn and correcting herself by questioning a man in servant livery, she found her way to a decorative atrium that led into a well-lit circular chamber with soft-colored hangings and tasseled pillows set out instead of chairs. Fifteen or twenty other girls in white dresses already perched on cushions, jabbering at one another excitedly and laughing.

Hoping she would go unnoticed, Sildane slipped cautiously into the chamber and quickly found herself a fluffed green cushion to one side of the raucous group. This would be her first time around girls who could channel other than Ghedlyn. Gathering her frizzled bronze hair over one shoulder, she quickly seated herself and glanced about nervously. Most of the other girls continued to chatter, though several had seen her and were watching her with interest.

"You'll see Therva, I'll hold it today for sure! You will lose that wager. I will be first!" a hazel-eyed girl with a dimpled chin and lank hair proclaimed to another slender girl with a long nose.

"That we shall see!" the girl Therva responded hotly.

Sildane's head leaped around when she felt a touch on her shoulder. She buried her hands in her dress to hide how they were shaking. The girl sitting on the cushion next to her, with bright blue eyes in a round, moon-like face framed by straight black hair, was fingering her sleeve, "You must be new today," she said.

"I... yes," Sildane responded cautiously. The girl seemed two or three years older than she herself. In fact, nearly every girl in the room seemed at least that much older.

"Tindyl," the girl introduced herself. She had a faint accent that Sildane could not place. "This is my third week. There were rumors of a new novice coming in and I couldn't wait. Now I'm not the freshest girl here!"

"I'm Sildane," was all Sildane could think to say.

"I still am getting lost in the corridors," Tindyl continued, speaking with her hands, "an Accepted will run me on some errand and I'll get myself all turned backwards and find myself in the stables before I even realize it. Did you know that an Aes Sedai came in injured last night?"

"I heard," Sildane responded shortly, uncertain if qualifying her relationship with the event would bring unwanted notice. Strangely, Sildane sensed that the other girl would be very weak as a channeler if she ever managed to embrace the source at all. She blinked in surprise at having made the judgment with barely a wayward thought. Ghedlyn was so much stronger than this girl as to seem an exploding star by comparison.

"Can you believe? I never thought such things happened to them. Even a High Lord of Tear would think twice!"

"Verin!" Someone chirped and the entire room quieted as if muffled by an ether.

A short, plump woman with a square face in a simple, if rumpled dress had found her way to the head of the room. She wore no shawl, but did not seem to need it. She appeared airy at first, but scanned the group of girls with quick, dark eyes. Framed by unruly brown hair, her ageless features did not change expression as she regarded the class.

All of the girls had scrambled to their feet upon noticing the Aes Sedai and they all offered their best curtsies. Sildane clawed to her feet and tried to follow the example, aware of how fumbling she felt and how young. The Aes Sedai's gaze swept over her without making any special stops.

"Quite the group," Verin Sedai exclaimed. For a moment, she eyes became cloudy and oddly distant. She caught herself, "Well then, I hope a few of you have remembered my instructions from when we met yesterday. Have you all had the opportunity to spend some time practicing with Accepted? I need not remind anyone that novices do not practice this without a tutor, Pellia?"

A girl with a high forehead and prominent cheekbones flushed brightly, "No Aes Sedai."

"Very well," standing amid the cushions, Verin Sedai folded her arms beneath her bosom and gave the class a curt nod, "why not seat yourselves and begin with the first breathing exercise. Nobody ever learns without practice. We shall see what you have for me today."

Sildane was uncertain which breathing exercise Verin Sedai meant, so she seated herself with a sidelong glance at Tindyl and tried to see how the other new girl was going to start. Tindyl smiled when she saw Sildane's furtive glance and pointed to her nose, then she closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply.

"Good Akihiko, your posture has improved," Verin Sedai exclaimed to one of the girls far over at the other end, "but breathe more to your stomach. You must make the breath as if to fill your whole being and body, as if to merge yourself with the air. Remember girls, point of the tongue at the roof of your mouth; breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. Easy Therva, you do not wish to get a light head."

Sildane stole looks at each other girl around her in turn, carefully craning her neck so as not to draw Verin Sedai's attention. The girl with the headful of fine honeyed braids sitting in front of her could grasp the source tenuously and might eventually gain good capacity. Another girl with skin the color of dark polish and short-cropped black hair would do nearly as well, though she probably had not made the first steps yet. A few of the girls nearby, like Tindyl, would never go very far, but some of the others might. Verin Sedai was easily the strongest in the room. Sildane gasped: another Aes Sedai much stronger than Verin stood just outside the door, looking in from the atrium. Sildane could not strip her eyes away from this woman, as tall and stately as she was, with a thrusting chin and long silver-gray hair. She wore a plain robe of snowy white. This woman was the strongest channeler Sildane had ever felt, stronger even than her friend, though Ghedlyn might someday approach that level. The woman's blue eyes held her own for a long while until Sildane found herself forced to break away.

"Please devote yourself to the exercise, Sildane," Verin Sedai's dark eyes were staring her way, "You certainly do not want to develop the reputation of a woolhead so soon in your schooling."

"No- I mean, yes Aes Sedai!" Sildane bleated, surprised deeply that Verin already knew her name.

"Now then," Verin Sedai gestured, "the task at hand."

"Yes Aes Sedai!" Sildane's eyes darted quickly back to the door, but the other Aes Sedai had already vanished.

Verin Sedai was watching her patiently, expectantly. Heart hammering in her chest, Sildane felt the heat of panic rising to her face in a solid wave. She had already made a poor impression on not one, but two Aes Sedai. She swallowed hard and struck out for the lessons with Rayanne Sedai at the farm. Clear your mind and focus inward. Breathe so, downward and through, holding the breath that tiniest instant at the apex. Open outward. Flower bud touched by the light, petals flaring open to catch sun surging down from the sky. After all her struggles during the ride north, reaching despite the agony of an arrow shaft through her leg and somehow finding, opening and feeling, it came so much more easily. The warmth and sweetness surged into and through her, welling like some vast spring gaping at her feet. She pulled sweetness to the point of pain and held back, exactly as she had learned from Ghedlyn and Rayanne Sedai.

"I see," Verin Sedai exclaimed ever so softly. She betrayed no surprise, only blinking at Sildane thoughtfully, almost distantly. "Now hold exactly like that and continue the breathing exercise. I will tell you when to let go."


	46. Book 3: Chapter 21

Dressed in a plain cotton shift, Rayanne stood wobbling before her favorite stand mirror. It had been a long time since she used the glass, but Tower servants seemed to have kept her chambers tidy in her absence and prevented the collection of dust. A silver chased tray laden with food sat on the nearby desk within easy reach. In hopes of countering the aftereffects of Healing, which left her as weak as a kitten, she forced a biscuit with cheese into her mouth and swallowed after only scant chewing. Stomach momentarily sated, Rayanne went back to combing out her blonde mane. The puckered patch of pink skin on either side of her shoulder was all that remained of the injury which very nearly killed her. Noelle was an incredible Healer, but Rayanne knew the scar would be with her for the rest of her life--the few days the injury spent mending without the touch of _saidar_ made the mark impossible to completely erase.

"You need solid rest, Rayanne, taking this notion to head is foolhardy. The difficulties surrounding this child have steadily accumulated," Allerria grumbled from where she sat in a rocking chair near the hearth. The other Yellow sister had been with Rayanne since she awakened, ostensibly checking her health. "The entire Tower will know of her existence the way matters are progressing."

"She needs to be found and brought into the Tower at once," Rayanne insisted again. "The more Aes Sedai who know she exists, the better her chance of survival. She should never have been sent away to the farm. I've done my best, but I fear it cannot be enough. She is safer here where many eyes can watch her." Rayanne did not give voice to her own concerns about Ghedlyn's potential enemies in the Tower, but she also believed that the girl needed more champions among the Aes Sedai if she were to have any hope of surviving to adulthood.

"Well that may be," Allerria decided tacitly. They had trodden this territory repeatedly for months and Allerria remained stubborn.

Turning from the mirror, Rayanne swept on a green housecoat trimmed in yellow and embroidered with daylilies. She caught herself on the back of an armchair when her knees turned to quaking, but she kept the momentary weakness from her face, "My warder has returned."

"In failure, no doubt," Allerria responded tartly, "Romanda has had gaidin scouring the city since last night, but to no avail. And the longer we make these efforts, the more attention it will draw from the rest of the Tower."

"I have to get out and look for her," Rayanne said, beginning to pleat her hair into its customary braid.

"What advantage does your presence offer?" the other Aes Sedai pressed. "As weak as you are right now, how do you hope to add anything to the search?"

"She knows me," Rayanne responded, hoping to make the woman understand.

"That answer is overtly brash. She may be lost forever already, you know," Allerria told her, watching her reaction with hooded eyes. "Perhaps for the better."

"I do not believe that," Rayanne snapped fiercely. Allerria might stand above her in the power, but she refused to be dissuaded.

A soft rap sounded on the bedroom door. "Come," she said, knowing fully who it would be.

Nordel's shaven head poked through the entry, his cruel face and warm brown eyes searching Rayanne out. "A relief, my lady," he said, "but you should not push yourself so harshly as yet."

"You try holding her down," Allerria intoned, "she was up the instant she knew the girl had not made it to the Tower."

"Come in, Nordel," Rayanne bade him, her annoyance with Allerria blocked from her expression, "I long since taught you not to hover in doorways."

The lanky man with the sword on his belt seemed uncharacteristically deferential. His colorshifting cloak did its best to blend him with the bookcase behind him, "A novice waiting patiently in your sitting room asked I give this to you." He crossed the woven rug with its sunflower design and gave Rayanne a letter pressed with a yellow wax seal.

Finished tying off her braid, Rayanne took the folded paper and cracked the wax. The Flame seal of the Amyrlin Seat decorated the sheet, and Kirin Melway's flowing script instructed simply, "Acknowledge her existence, but guard her worth. We will speak when possible."

Channeling a thread of Fire to burn the sheet, Rayanne glanced at Nordel and Allerria, "She must be found." She dropped the crackling leaflet onto the hearth.

"I fear it may already be too late," Nordel declared in a low voice.

Rayanne snorted raggedly. She had felt her warder's mood and she did not fully understand what she was hearing, "From Allerria, I expect it, but I did not think to hear it from you."

"I met the enemy last night," the gangly warder admitted. "Do you remember Jania Midolin?"

Rayanne blinked. Allerria looked on with expectant interest. "She was a Blue who died in a White Cloak ambush a dozen years ago," Allerria said. "Well respected as I recall; powerful and quite skilled. She left this world about the time you raised to the shawl, Rayanne. Her death was a great loss to us all."

"I faced her Warder," Nordel exclaimed, "Renard lives."

Rayanne gasped softly and Allerria's eyes fogged, but her face was a mask. "How can that be?" Rayanne asked.

"A few have been saved before," Allerria told them, "The Yellow has long studied how to Heal the breaking of the warder bond when a sister dies. It is not easy, but not completely without precedent either."

"Renard is a dangerous opponent," Nordel added, "He knows Aes Sedai. He knows Tar Valon. And, he knows me. It is likely he played a part in the plot to kill the girl while we traveled north and likely gambled I would see that trap to slip it. He was waiting for me to appear here in Tar Valon and upon seeing me, found his target. When I faced him last night, I would wager he ended our confrontation serving as a decoy, so I expect he is not working alone. The man I knew could be very subtle, often a move or two ahead of where you might expect, but this man also had a bloodthirsty edge that is new. I do not doubt that Ghedlyn is dead if she is in his hands."

"I will not rest until I see her body!" Rayanne proclaimed fiercely, all pretense of serenity forgotten for a moment. "She is still alive!"

"We must face the possibility! They had the entire night," Nordel wrapped an arm around her. "And we had warders and Tower Guard turning the streets through all of it. Since that first encounter, nobody has seen anything."

"Keeping foremost in mind," Allerria arranged her skirts while she spoke, "that the girl we seek doesn't have the sense to protect herself even though she has the power to flay the skin off anything that lives."

Rayanne's ice blue eyes shot daggers at the other woman, but she managed to get a grip on herself. Her limbs shaking with weakness, she once again caught hold of the back of the armchair. Nordel did his best to help keep her on her feet, but she really did not want his touch just then.

"There is always a chance," Nordel finally allowed, reluctantly standing back to let Rayanne bear her own weight. "She has pulled through one attack already. At the very least, she has talent at hiding when it suits her."

"And we can pray under the Light and hope of rebirth that the ability remains with her," Rayanne exclaimed pointedly, "If she is hidden from them, then the advantage of numbers searching for her is in our favor."

Nordel nodded slowly, though his expression remained desultory, "That may be true. But time is not our ally: the longer she remains missing, the more likely the other side has won."

"Agreed," tottering with each step, Rayanne slipped behind the panel-wood dressing screen with carved filigree on its edges and doffed her house coat, "The sooner I make it onto the streets of Tar Valon, the sooner we can find her."

Allerria shook her head and clicked her tongue, "Tsk. At some point, you will need to face the truth. Matters may well be beyond your reach already and your health does not put you at your best. If I could, I would save you unnecessary trouble."

"To which truth would you be referring?" Rayanne began to pull on a loose riding dress with divided skirts, "That the child is not at the Tower? Or, that we do not know where she is? Or rather that my hand in the matter is ineffectual? In point of truth, we do not know what has happened to her and you do not seem to understand that I mean what I say when I say that I will not stop until I see the body! If it is in my power, I will not allow this girl to find her end after she has come so very far."

"The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills," Allerria commented, her tone of voice sympathetic, "As a fellow healer, my advice is that you be prepared for the illness to spread in any direction. You know how I feel about this child and, as you will not be stopped, I caution you against being dominated by your emotions. In the end, a healer must be detached and practical since a patient might die from what you least expect. Do not think me cruel; my warder is searching for the girl along with the others." With that, Allerria stood, tipped her chin politely to Nordel and, holding up the corner of her skirts, glided from the bedroom.

"That woman is infuriating," Rayanne commented as she finished the hasty job of dressing; the riding dress, embroidered with light-yellow scrollwork across the blouse and down the divide skirt, was suitable for a day out on the countryside. She picked a green and yellow cloak trimmed in gold and added the final touches by including her yellow-fringed shawl. She did not want to admit that standing her ground against a woman stronger than she did make her jittery.

Nordel chose his words very carefully, "She may not agree with you, but she is being practical. Ghedlyn is a dangerous combination of power and weakness. You told me she has value beyond measuring, and I cannot help but fear when her growing pains truly emerge--perhaps to impact everyone around her. Value beyond measure? What is more valuable to a sister in Yellow than life itself? Who is worth more, the child who cannot be cured, or the people who are harmed trying to rescue her from her fate? From a healer's eye, the poor girl may be an epidemic unto herself."

"You do not really believe that," Rayanne came around the dressing screen pulling on riding gloves, "You said yourself that we should be ready to fight this as we would a war! Even if some of her enemies are _here_ in the Tower."

"I have killed three men for her myself," Nordel responded. Rayanne had not seen her warder looking quite so tired or old, "And I watched two good men die for her last night never having even met her. The way the trap on the road was set for her, who can say how many others might have found a brutal end, all for her sake. Renard unquestionably has contacts in the Tower. A war? Yes, my lady, I have seen too much of that. You should forgive me for not wishing to see more. What value should be placed on one child's life?"

"What is the value of one life?" Rayanne touched her warder's arm, half to steady herself and half to simply try to reach him. She could sense that the search and the confrontation with a man he knew had shaken him. He usually seemed so steadfast, "Exactly how high is invaluable? After all, someone placed the value of her life very high indeed to be willing to take so many other lives so blindly for her sake. You _know_ what the Amyrlin thinks she is worth."

Nordel shook his head, "Looking at her, knowing her, it is hard not to see a tiny girl who can barely avoid being frightened by her own shadow."

"More than anything else, remember that she did not ask for who she is. If nothing else, she deserves someone to stand up for her not because of her abilities, but because she cannot help but be who she is," Rayanne started for the bedroom door. "We need to collect Sildane; she might be a great asset in this search."

"She wears white now, it may not be in her favor to involve her in this matter," Nordel reminded her.

"It affects her as it affects us all. We shall see what can be done," Rayanne stood up straight and inclined her chin, allowing a veil of serenity to settle over her as she prepared for what needed to be done. She pushed the weakness that she still felt into the corner of her being and locked it there by sheer act of will. She would not lose this battle; she had decided she would willingly die fighting on her feet.


	47. Book 3: Chapter 22

Of all places in Tar Valon, from the hundred foot spires with bridges crossing open air, to the fanciful buildings shaped from curves and cornices, to the broad causeway streets and open-air markets, the sun rose last over the Beggar's Circle. Rain in the night had finally departed and no clouds littered the sky but for the perpetual plume issuing from the Dragonmount, though the clear blue was not so easily seen nestled deep down within the snarl of buildings.

Although midday loomed in the near future, the little black-haired girl with coppery skin and onyx eyes perched atop a wooden cask in a cool shadow yet untouched by morning. She continued to squeeze her favorite book against her chest in a mortal rigor. To Ghedlyn, time passed as if it were cold honey congealed on a tree branch. She breathed. Her heart beat. And, she sometimes shivered. Even though she hardly noticed, dampness left over from the nighttime clung deeply to her dress and cloak. Since the cask lid at her bottom remained wet and because she had not moved even a twitch in hours, she sat in a literal puddle.

"So you have no name to give," observed the dirty old man with a knotted beard and skin as pocked as it was wrinkled. He shifted his ragged cloak along the edge of a forgotten stone wall so that it could continue to dry in a migrating beam of sunlight.

When he asked her name, as he had several times through the morning, her voice refused to operate and she heard his questions as if from the bottom of a deep well. She shivered as a breeze passed along the tight alley. She could think of nothing. She did not understand. She recognized the words and recorded them into her indelible memory, but she did not comprehend their meaning.

"Of course, that is acceptable here," the old man assured her, "Most in this place have no names they wish to give. Or, they have no names to remember. Isn't that so, Corky."

"Don't call me tha' Gramps," responded a disheveled young man dressed in a badly patched cloak who stood at the juncture where the spider-web of alleys opened, "So, she still not speaking?"

"Give her time," the old man said, "she's plainly had a shock."

"We should take her to the Tower," put in scraggly cat of a woman without her front teeth, "I make her for a novice. Most like she run away. No doubt she belongs over there. Probably deserves a wuppin' from the Mistress of Novices her own self."

"Maybe the sisters will spare us food and gold for reward," added another, "Word has that warders are still about in force, and probably searching for this one!"

"There will be trouble," said a man with a bent back and crinkled legs who sat on a low two-wheeled cart, but sported barrel-like arms and a thick neck.

"We will let her be," the old man clamped down on the discussion, moving to shift his cloak along the wall again, "It was her life they wanted last night--do not doubt! We let her be 'til she decides for her own self what she'll have. Every person should have the say for their own life, even if it brings them here!"

"There will be trouble," the bent fellow said again, "Word will spread among the Guild. Eventually someone will hear of coin or see advantage for themselves and that will bring trouble here, whether it be for us to decide or not."

"And I will clod the ear of whatever fat-head decides to wag his jaw," the old man jabbed back.

Ghedlyn sat as a statue through it all, hearing these grimy men and women argue, reach a decision, then argue some more. She had been unable to count. Structures of calculation lay in a shambles in her mind, with many threads of logic bent backward to solutions that did not relate in any coherent form. Nothing made any sense. _Saidar_ surged into grasp several times, winking the alley with all its light, shadow, noise, scent and texture into full, unobscured detail, until Ghedlyn realized she was holding power and hastily released it again. She did not wish to be found.

She remembered the breath of fear upon her. Ice clawing down her back where it might otherwise have been water from the rain drumming her skull. Those footsteps in the rubbish of this very alley had been so close. She remembered the sound of the calm man breathing as he apologized dully to each person he disturbed. He had been standing right there, not two paces from the cask where she now sat, and Ghedlyn knew he had intended to take her life away. She saw the alley in turns as it had been dark, hammered with rain and littered with clinging debris, and as it was now: light and filled with arguing people. She sat as if watching the memory unspool over and over, seeing how her pursuer must have stood, looking down toward where she lay paralyzed with fear, an instant from discovery. The experience swept over her in nothing more than recollection, but as real as if it were happening all over again.

She shivered.

The old man had been lying in the garbage next to her, wearing the cloak he now dried, his breath reeking of hard liquor. He had grunted when the calm man kicked him. Ghedlyn remembered that one moment as if it were the last in her life.

And then it happened.

When he grunted his slurred protest and moved, the old man spread his tattered cloak over her body and hid her from the rain. He hid her from sight.

"Lay still and make not a sound," his stinking breath had whispered in her ear, "and all will be well."

The calm man searched around, kicked other protesting people, and then eventually lurked away. Soon, even echoes of the well-spoken woman vanished into the pattering of rain. Ghedlyn lay still, stunned that she remained undiscovered. She had been waiting for that killing blow. She had been certain of nothing but the inevitability. Why did that blow not fall? Reality disconnected somewhere; it positively fell away from itself. She did not comprehend.

"Are you certain she will not eat?" asked a smooth faced woman with discolored teeth.

"Staring such as that," someone else said, "does she even know anyone is here with her?"

The old man scoffed, "She will return when she's settled."

"...And we stole this extra for her..."

Ghedlyn remembered the glint of the knife in the well-spoken woman's hands, though that woman's face remained a void in lamplight. She remembered flaring eyes. Ghedlyn's fingers touched the cover of the leather book, found and traced the hole. The silver blade wielded by a flesh-and-blood person had been aimed directly for her heart. The exploding tree had been a knife too, hurtled from nowhere by no one and just happened to find a certain little girl. Ghedlyn knew the exploding tree had been meant to kill, but it had been completely without identity, a hazard that might have sprung upon anyone. After the tree, Ghedlyn had been certain that random violence could just happen, though she never placed upon it any intent. She had been certain that she might at any instant be trapped in another explosion and she had feared being away from Papa or Sildane or Rayanne Sedai for that very reason. The woman stabbing at her with that shining knife from out of the rain had been completely different, directed and personal and full of humanity and hate. While she had known about death, she had never before seen it reflected in someone's eyes before she met the man in the dark hat and the woman with the knife.

The well-spoken woman and the calm man together followed her to this alley. They came kicking people, searching. It occurred to Ghedlyn that, even though the alley had seemed empty in the dead of night, it had actually been filled with all these same people surrounding her in the bright of day. The calm man and the woman with the knife were not intent on the people they tripped over; they wanted only one little dark-haired girl that most other people chose to ignore. They could have tried to kill anyone, but they did not.

Ghedlyn's logic, flawless, stark and without a flicker of tact, drew a line backward through the pattern. The crossbow bolts out of the night, one into Rayanne Sedai and another into precious, caring Sildane, had been meant not just for anyone. The tree had not exploded on just anyone. The scary man with the beard and dark hat had not been searching for just any credulous prey. That knife blade in the well-spoken woman's hands had not been a random stab. The calm man would not settle for any of the other people he disturbed lying on the ground. Only one common thread existed.

Why? Ghedlyn wondered and could not find an answer.

Then there was the second logic thread. A layer of people had somehow always existed between herself and the inevitable knife. Rayanne Sedai saved her life, took the crossbow bolt and spent her days tirelessly guarding Ghedlyn. Sildane stepped forward and helped guide her, and nearly lost herself for it. Nordel the warder seemed to take actions to alleviate influences that might harm her. And then there was the old man with the cloak in an act whose motivation Ghedlyn did not understand. At one point, not one of these people had been any part of her world, yet they all influenced her to live one day more. Even her father had brought her across a huge tract of open country away from anything familiar in order to find Aes Sedai on her behalf. All for her!

Why?

"Why is it me?" she asked, her question flung out randomly. Tears were instantly streaming down her face.

"She spoke!"

"What did she say?"

"Why is it me and not someone else?" she did not know how to ask.

The old man was lifting his cloak down from the wall. His eyebrows were raised when he looked Ghedlyn's way, "So it does speak..."

Ghedlyn wanted only to know, wanted only the answer her logic could not seem to dredge out. "Why does it have to be me? Why am I supposed to die? Why am I supposed to live?"

Wrapping himself in his dingy cloak, the wrinkled old man scratched his forehead and laughed, "If I'm not mistaken, every person breathing asks that question at least once in life. To be so silent all morning and then blurt that; poor girl has indeed had a shock! Do you really want an honest answer from a complete stranger?"

"Why must I die!" Ghedlyn begged, her voice high and quailing.

"Nobody 'must' die, but everyone dies eventually," the old man responded without an instant's hesitation and without the slightest sensitivity for feelings.

"No one wants to kill you! No one wants," Ghedlyn wailed, "why is it me?"

"Not like you're the only one in the world! Maybe someone wants to kill me and I just don't know them yet," the old man exclaimed, "maybe that's why I'll not tell you my name! Maybe _you_ are the one to come for me!"

"But they did not try to kill you, not did they but try!"

"Maybe they were not the ones who will do for me!" the old man came over and stooped down so that they were eye-to-eye. Ghedlyn flinched back from his intense honey-brown gaze.

"But they came for me, came they did, not for anyone but me," Ghedlyn's teary-eyed glance skated everywhere but toward the old man's face. "Always came for me, every time. Always came for me!"

"Maybe someone else will come for me some other night, and you will not be there to see it," he returned evenly.

"But why me? Why me? Why me? Why me?" she tried again, desperate to make him understand.

"Why not you?" he asked, "All people die. Every person is beholden to their own life and every life will end. Maybe I have seen worse than last night ever was for you! How can you know? Maybe everyone has seen worse than you and you do not know it yet! We all die child, someday. The only choice you have is how to live with the time that remains in you." He poked her firmly in the forehead with a greasy finger. "And you are far too young to be mulling such a worry."

Ghedlyn flinched at being touched, but kept herself from crying out in alarm.

They faced each other for a long, silent moment, the center of attention of the disenfranchised.

Ghedlyn swallowed hard, "...Why am I to live? When I was to die, you chose that I live. Why chose you that? You could have _not_ chosen that."

The man shrugged, a lop-sided grin brushing his lips, "Why did I save you? Maybe, someday, when it is my time to _not_ die, you will do the same for me."

"But you do not know me, you do not," Ghedlyn gaped, the idea foreign to her.

"I didn't realize that was a requirement," the old man scoffed. "If someone who I don't know wants to kill me, maybe someone else I don't know will want to make me live. I think you should live because I want to live too. One person's choice is linked to that of another. My choice that you will live might someday be your choice that _I_ live."

He turned away from Ghedlyn with a flip of his ill-kept cloak. Ghedlyn's mind spun over, completely overwhelmed by this new notion. _Saidar_ raged into and through her in a shock of warmth, which she struggled to push away. She saw a tensorial metric stretch out from person to person, its curvature controlled in the space between one person and the next, its evolution in one person governed by the curvature caused by a person nearby. She could see the possibility of a stationary path solution where she had never expected to find one before. And, she realized, of every person in the alley, her connections were weakest and most minimal. For her, _saidar_ by itself had always been nearly everything and she had never completely seen how people embedded in the world around her affected the Age Lace contours. It came almost as a shock to understand that an alteration in her place could arise not in herself, but in someone else. After the explosion of the tree, she had understood intuitively she would die alone and thus saw value to herself in the contact with Sildane and others; now she saw more deeply the reasons why.

She itched to scribble the revelation to visualize the pragmatics and trace out its logic, but became suddenly aware that the act of doing so might send ripples back through the contour into all these people around her and alter the state of her own circumstance in a way she could not predict. For the first time in her entire life, she restrained herself from dropping everything to chase an idea.

"Here," the old man was looking at her again. He was holding out something to her.

Ghedlyn blinked, realizing she had lost touch with reality for a moment, somehow. Shivering with the effort, she pushed away the final contact with _saidar_. The alley fell drab to her senses in absence of the source, but Ghedlyn did not want to be found. She brushed at the tears tickling her face.

"Come now, take it before we all turn cross," her urged her with mock indignation, "What will be said of me if it becomes known I made a girl your age cry?" In his outstretched hand was a well-chipped porcelain plate carrying several pieces of orange fruit, some berries and a broken chunk of bread.

"W-why?" Ghedlyn found herself asking before she could retract the impulse. She could not deny hunger and she had only just begun to understand why a man she did not know might choose to feed her.

"Why not?" the old man returned with a wrinkled grin, "I believe you say 'why' more often than I say 'because.' Perhaps it should be no surprise that a beggar understands better than a wealthy merchant that, to receive, one must also know how to give."

Ghedlyn chewed the thought along with the crust of bread. She did not understand, but she saw some elements of the pattern that never appeared to her before. Sildane had taken a crossbow bolt for her; would she be willing to bear the same sort of pain for the sake of her friend? If the exploding tree had instead been meant for Sildane, would she herself have been willing to enduring something she feared more than nearly anything just for her friend? Would she step deliberately into the path of the well-spoken woman's blade to stop her dear friend from dying? Would she do the same for someone she did not know?

She felt uncertain how she would respond if she were standing in the shoes of someone else looking back at her own plight, choosing whether to keep herself alive or to let herself die.


	48. Book 3: Chapter 23

"First day? It do be a record!" the Mistress of Novices quipped. Her serene expression remained an impregnable frost despite the tacit simmer in her tone. "At this rate, you do be set to become the most storied novice in three thousand years."

Brushing away tears, Sildane fingered the throbbing tip of her ear where Latel Sedai's fingernails had dug in. She still remembered the jarring shock of the shield weave slamming into place between herself and the source, cutting her off from the warmth and joy. She sniffed hard, "They... they started it, I..."

"You nothing!" Latel interrupted sharply. "Child, you do no use the One Power as a weapon against other girls. A novice do no be a teacup Dread Lord, ladling out retribution at a whim whenever it do be needed."

"I was... I was..." Sildane struggled as the woman dragged her by the wrist along the blue colored floor runner. Her voice emerged in a squeak, "I was just trying to defend myself."

"Do no be worrying yourself on that account," Latel replied, "every girl involved will feel my slipper before this day ends. That you defended yourself do no be the crime; it do be the channeling!"

Sildane swallowed hard. How had it been a reflex? Why had it been so unconscious? She had never lashed out that way before, yet there had been no effort involved. When she got angry, she just did it...

"So you do become more storied by the moment..." Latel grunted under her breath.

In the hallway before Latel Sedai's office stood a tall, lanky warder with a shaven head and a brutal, unattractive face, his colorshifting cloak wrapped around his body like a shroud. A blond Aes Sedai with a yellow shawl and a determined gleam in her gem blue eyes stood next to him. Rayanne Sedai's gaze drifted over Sildane, but gave no glint of recognition.

Latel Sedai stopped a novice girl passing down the hall carrying a mop and a bucket of soapy water. She took the girl's bucket and placed it in Sildane's hands, "Panlia, do tell the cooks I sent you to the kitchen for the remainder of your chore period. Sildane, you will wait in the hall while I deal with this. Hold the bucket out in front of you until I instruct otherwise. Do no be dropping your arms until I say so, even should your shoulders threaten to fall out of their sockets. If you move one hair, it do be worse than my slipper!" She punctuated without raising the level of her voice. Sildane could sense the edge threatening the woman's fortification of calm.

"Latel," Rayanne Sedai greeted the Mistress of Novices cordially, smiling graciously.

"Rayanne. I trust that you do be well after your debacle," the rumpled brown sister spared Sildane a piercing glance before she gestured Rayanne and Nordel into her office. She slammed the door just harder than necessary behind her guests such that it bounced and remained slightly ajar.

Sildane stood with her back pressed against the corridor wall, holding the sloshing water bucket out in front of her as instructed. How had she gotten into this situation? After all the chores that filled her morning, the muscles in her shoulders and arms already protesting mightily. Tears streamed freely down her reddened face. She had not wanted to make anyone so angry at her. She had not wanted to be in trouble.

"Latel, we need assistance from Sildane," Rayanne could be heard within the office. "I know this is much to ask."

"I fear that do no be possible," Latel exclaimed, her voice a stolid croak next to Rayanne's sweet chime. "The girl do be showing herself a troublemaker, and this be but her first day."

Rayanne sounded surprised, "She is a decent girl of good upbringing; I can see you are punishing her, but I cannot imagine as to why."

"I respect your opinion Rayanne, but the telling of such do be between the girl and myself," Latel responded. "I suspect you have spoiled this one too soundly. Until I do be more certain of how she will adjust to Tower life, it do no be proper to release her back to your care."

"I see," Rayanne answered with exaggerated calm. "Yet we have great need of her. If I could borrow her for but an hour or two."

"And what do this 'great need' be about?" the Mistress of Novices asked, "no girl do be so special to demand the full attention from any one sister. Would this relate to the interests of the Yellow in the city? I fear I can no put the crusade of an Ajah ahead of the solidarity of the Tower."

"It is about the solidarity of the Tower," Rayanne explained quickly, "It does effect everyone here. Without Sildane..."

"It do no be possible that she join you. Her training do be the lead priority, especially since she do have the spark. Pliable material there, I grant you, but she do no be much more than other channeling girls, and I have studied so many," Latel hid her earlier anger so cleanly that she might well have been discussing the weather. "This other child the Yellow found, I do be curious about that one. For the Yellow to spend the entire night scouring the city, she must be rare fabric indeed. Since when did the 'solidarity of the Tower' revolve around a single girl whose name do no be yet in the Novice Book?"

"I suppose it is a concern of the Ajah. Please forgive me for having bothered you," Rayanne responded in tones as genial as when the conversation opened. Sildane thought she could detect a note of tightness in her mentor's voice. "I shall approach you again when Sildane has grown more accustomed to life as a novice."

"If she can be taught, her promise do be great," Latel Sedai answered, "but only if she do be a hard worker and finds more self-control."

"I appreciate your time, Latel," Rayanne said, the sound of her voice approaching the door.

"As ever, Rayanne," Latel actually seemed cheerful even though Sildane suspected her ire remained unquenched, "my door do be ever open should you need it."

Rayanne and Nordel left the office quickly. Nordel looked straight ahead, his dark eyes fixed on a distant horizon. The blond Aes Sedai spared a faint glance to Sildane as she glided past. Sildane read it in her mentor's bright blue eyes. She felt a chill spread to her feet: Ghedlyn! Rayanne Sedai kept her chin high and walked on with a stately grace that exceed anything she had ever displayed at the farm. She exuded a pride that did not completely overshadow the acute worry Sildane had seen in her features a moment earlier. The Aes Sedai and her warder passed down the corridor wasting no time on lost causes.

Ghedlyn was in terrible danger. Sildane could not strike the ringing revelation from her thoughts. Her friend might be dying somewhere, or dead already. Her arms shook now as much from the exertion of holding the water bucket as from the fear for her friend. And she was here, stuck facing a punishment she should have been smart enough to avoid. It was due solely to Ghedlyn that she was in the White Tower as a novice at all. Finding herself in this trouble had been her own mistake, but the skill stemmed from Ghedlyn's teaching. She owed everything to her friend, including the opportunities both to fail and to succeed.

"I know you heard that conversation," Latel Sedai poked her disheveled head out the door. "And now you know there do be no clemency from your former mentor. You will stand in that position pondering this thought until I call you in, and then we shall discover which of my slippers suits your bottom best."

A few moments before, the carefully lodged threat would have struck Sildane to the core. Now, however, she could not shake away her friend's predicament. Tears all but forgotten, she began aloud, "I think..."

"You think what you were told to until you do hear otherwise, child," the Mistress of Novices warned in an even tone that belied her fury before retreating into her office. "If you do be wise, you will make no act to worsen your situation."

Thus Sildane was left standing in the corridor staring at the tapestry on the opposite wall. Though her arms shook harder and splashed a little extra water, the wetness on her face was drying. What would she do if Ghedlyn died because she was not with Rayanne Sedai and Nordel during their search? She wondered what exactly she could do that an army of warders was not already doing, but she could not get past the thought that maybe there was something. Rayanne Sedai and Nordel turned a corner far down at the other end of the hall, disappearing finally from sight.

If she wanted to aid in the search for her friend, she would need to act soon, or not at all.

Arms beginning to buckle under the weight of the full bucket, Sildane turned her head to look at the door, open slightly inward into the office of the full, experienced Aes Sedai. Sildane knew that the Mistress of Novices could fold her in half with the one power as easily as breathe. But, Ghedlyn was nearly the strength of this woman. If what Sildane had done to the other girl had brought this penance down upon her, what she contemplated now would be a hundred times worse.

Every instant she spent on indecision, her opportunity to help her friend retreated further from sight. Would Rayanne Sedai accept her help if she volunteered it? She had to; Ghedlyn was at stake! Latel Sedai would surely set her a penance until the day the Dragon's rebirth if she made this choice, but she did not think it much mattered. If Ghedlyn died, any penance--even being thrown from the Tower--would seem a trifle.

She had to act.

Muscles screaming, Sildane scarcely dared to breathe while she transferred the sloshing pail to her right hand. She almost could not support the bucket so, but she needed her left hand free for the door handle. She would have only one chance before the element of surprise failed. If she could not manage every action simultaneously, her cause was lost. She turned slowly to face the door, hoping the faint rustle of her white skirt against her legs did not stir the Mistress of Novices seated at her desk only a couple long strides within the office.

Already out of sight, Rayanne and Nordel were getting farther away every second. Sildane worried about the maze of corridors that she still did not completely know. She needed to move!

She planned the single weave she might have time to spin before Latel Sedai came down upon her. What if she had not seen it fully enough? Usually, Ghedlyn needed to repeat a weave several times before Sildane could begin to reproduce the work. No, this one was so simple that she thought she knew it already. After she got the source, it would hinge upon that one thread of Fire. Sildane tried to visualize the feel the Fire would have, how it might buck against her control like a thread drawn from a billowing furnace. She tried to ponder what she would do if it kicked this way or that. What if she could not even summon it? Fire went that way sometimes. In that spare instant, the Mistress of Novices would weave a shield of Spirit and she would be caught. It all came down to that single strand of power pulled from her weakest element. Sildane wished she were as fast as Ghedlyn, capable of pouring forth ten weaves in scarcely an eye-blink.

Her right arm jittering in pain from supporting the water pail, Sildane stretched out her left. She reached carefully, quietly. Her arm edged across the wide opening, within fingers of the handle. If Latel Sedai saw her arm, exposed as it was for just this moment, the gambit would be ended. At least, if she were discovered now, the penance would be easier than it might become in a few moments. Her fingers touched the polished brass of the lever.

Sildane breathed in, then breathed out. She counted reflexively the length of the breath. Here was the edge. The point of no return.

She caught the door handle and pulled it gently at first, pulled it carefully and more quickly. The latch snapped locked as the door settled against the jamb and Sildane thought she felt Latel Sedai's attention come forward.

"Sildane...!"

The source exploded into Sildane on the next breath, the light of the sun breaking upon her.

"Child, that do be a mistake!" Sildane felt the Mistress of Novices embrace the source at the same time as she, drawing in _saidar_ and beginning to weave more quickly than a mere novice girl could hope to match.

Sildane wove for dear life in excruciating slowness. There were only a few threads. Only a few. The shield was more complex and Latel Sedai was much faster than she, but only a few threads against many.

She splashed the bucket of water down the doorframe and twisted together those few threads of power that quaked and struggled against her grasp. The spiral loop took shape in the flow of water. Just the Fire remained.

"I'm sorry!" Sildane called through the door, "I'm so sorry!"

"Child..." Latel Sedai's voice oozed with an unbelieving temper.

The Fire buffeted against her. She almost lost hold of it until the flaming thread locked into place and completed Ghedlyn's loop. The water on the door absorbed the tiny weave and convulsed to life, swelling into teeth of ice that bit like claws into the wood. Ice swelled inside the jamb between the wall and door. Sildane twisted the weave closed with Ghedlyn's tying technique.

The shield weave came flying through the door and Sildane could only respond by darting a pointed Spirit thread of her own into the completed weave. She and Ghedlyn had made a game of something like this...

"Child no!" Latel cried out upon feeling Sildane's deed. "You do no know what you do!" She let the shield weave go before Sildane could fully tie her thread in.

A shock of exploding air smacked into Sildane as the weave flew apart and slammed her with a grunt into the tapestried wall on the opposite side of the corridor. The bucket clattered out of her hand as she collapsed to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" Sildane gasped in pain as she dragged herself up off the floor runner.

"End this foolishness! We have to talk about this!" the Mistress of Novices had turned her channeling toward the weave Sildane had left in the ice. She rattled the door and directed flows of power into the ice, but could not seem to catch the tiny loop that spread through the frozen water.

Half staggering and panting, Sildane turned and ran. _Saidar_ had slipped from her tenuous grasp. Latel Sedai could not see through the solid door into the corridor to hit her with another weave, but she did not want to stick around before the Aes Sedai managed to get through the barrier separating them. She had to find Rayanne Sedai and Nordel.

"Child what do you try to do?!" Latel Sedai's muffled cry followed her down the hall. Upon hearing the shouts, servants began to emerge from side corridors. Sildane just ran, her feet clapping with obnoxious loudness on the blue floor runner.

"What are you doing?" one of the servants tried to grab her on the way past, but she dodged the open arms. Fortunately for Sildane, rather than engaging pursuit, the serving woman kept on toward the Mistress of Novices' office instead.

Too slowly for comfort, Sildane finally made it around the corner where Rayanne Sedai and Nordel had vanished. She kept on quickly despite the pain from crashing into the wall. Nordel and Rayanne Sedai were nowhere to be seen, only hurrying servants and a novice or two. "Oh no!" Where had they gone?

"Sildane?"

Sildane jumped and wanted to continue running, but the other girl caught her wrist before she could.

The girl smiling at Sildane was another novice who had been in the channeling lesson earlier; the girl with the moon-shaped face and straight black hair who was a few years older than Sildane. "Tindyl," the girl prompted when she saw Sildane at a loss for words.

"Yes, right..." Sildane tried to shoulder past, but the other girl barred her way.

"I saw what those girls did," Tindyl went on, "it was cruel of them. If I could channel like you, I might've done what you did."

"It was stupid," Sildane gasped, scanning the hall ahead for some sign of Rayanne Sedai. "I have to go..."

"You look a little peaked," Tindyl commented, moving again to bar Sildane's escape route, "I hope Latel Sedai did not set you too harsh a penance."

"I- I-" Sildane tried to pry herself free of the other girl, but she seemed attached. "I have to..." She knew Rayanne Sedai and Nordel were getting further away. Every moment she delayed...

"Um, Sildane," Tindyl's face flushed red, her blue eyes searching the floor. "Um, will you... will you teach me about channeling?"

"What?" Sildane bleated, her attention suddenly fixed on the other girl.

Tindyl finally released her grip on Sildane, "I know I'm asking a lot, but I.... I know I'm slow. I don't want them to force me out of the Tower because I'm too slow. Just that, what you did: you already know so much... and you came in after me..."

Hand darting to mouth, Sildane caught herself, "I don't know if I would be... I don't know if... Listen, can we talk about this some time else? There is an urgent matter I need to attend to."

Tindyl's face fell, but she nodded quickly, "Um, sure. We... we'll talk about it another time."

Sildane's heart went out to the other girl. If not for Ghedlyn, she might also have eventually ended up in a similar position, "Tindyl, we will speak of it again. I promise! Please, can you tell me if you happened to see a blonde Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah come this way? She had her warder with her."

"Um, yes," Tindyl brightened and pointed, "She and her gaidin went that way."

"We will speak again," Sildane insisted as she turned to hurry on at a full run.

An Accepted appeared from the direction of the Mistress of Novices' office, "Sildane, stop!"

Sildane continued to run, not turning back to see the Accepted chasing her. Tindyl transposed herself in the path of the young woman in the white dress with the seven color bands along the hemn, "Duvella, I have a question to ask..."

"Not now, Tindyl," the Accepted shot back, trying to push past the girl, "Sildane! Come back!"

Sildane recognized the Accepted who had showed her around the night before, but she could not afford to stop moving. She squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed hard. Was she going to make enemies of every person she knew in the White Tower this day? She ran without answering, hoping she would stumble onto Rayanne Sedai somehow. She hoped dearly that Rayanne would accept her help. Her mentor had to accept her help. If she could not find her champion soon, the entire White Tower would descend upon her.

"Sildane, the Mistress of Novices wants to speak with you! Sildane, stop!" Duvella called after her, apparently free from Tindyl.

"I'm sorry!" Sildane called as she ran. "Please be there, Rayanne Sedai," she begged aloud as she turned another corner.

The Aes Sedai she ran into was not Rayanne.

"That will be quite enough of that," in a blaze of _saidar_, the woman plucked Sildane off the floor with a flow of Air and clapped a shield of Spirit around her as if Sildane were nothing more than a troublesome infant.

Sildane found herself flattened face up against the high white ceiling stones, paralyzed and completely unable to touch _saidar_. Stunned and head spinning, she continued to gasp for breath.

"Aes Sedai!" Duvella cried in surprise. Sildane could not see what was going on in the corridor beneath her, but she thought she heard the rustle of the Accepted's hasty curtsy.

"Duvella is it?"

"Yes sister! The Mistress of Novices sent me to retrieve Sildane."

The Aes Sedai sighed audibly, "Please return to Latel and inform her that I have this one. I will see to her penance."

"Yes, Aes Sedai," Duvella verily turned to flee.

The Aes Sedai stood silently for a long moment. "Girl," she finally said in a quiet, clear voice, "what possible logic could you have engaged to undertake such a ludicrous set of actions? Do you wish for penance so badly? I can think of no conclusion where your ploy would have worked out to your benefit."

Trapped as she was, Sildane could not respond.

"No bother," the woman said, "We will have a long discussion and disentangle it together."

Sildane's heart fell.


	49. Book 3: Chapter 24

Past the Tarlomen's gates, wandering the expansive city, the crowds bustled busily about their afternoon. Astride Ragabash and Prancer, their only means of quartering the huge area of the island in a reasonable time, the blond Aes Sedai and her warder shared only a few choice words. Horseback could be difficult in the press of Tar Valon, where foot traffic and palanquins and sedan chairs cramped every square hide of land, but it remained the quickest means. In truth, only Aes Sedai wearing easily visible shawls could command enough attention from the throng to make decent headway by horse without a military escort.

And, they both knew they had a long way yet to travel.

"There?" Nordel pointed once.

Rayanne shook her head, throwing her golden braid, "Too much traffic. To find her now, we need out of these crowds."

"At this time of day?" Nordel asked. "The whole city vibrates from wall to white wall when the sun hangs as such."

They journeyed on in silence, each knowing the thoughts of the other without wasting a stray word. Rayanne could sense that her warder remained unusually pensive--Nordel tracked every moving shadow and jumped each time she settled wrongly in Prancer's saddle. She wanted reassure him of her strength, but could not tell the necessary lie. After days of injury and not yet recovered from the Healing, Rayanne possessed barely enough strength to keep to her mount. Were they walking, she would never have reached the gates to exit Tower grounds.

Rayanne turned over the conversation with the Mistress of Novices yet again. If only she could have said something to sway the woman. Unfortunately, Latel was stronger in the power than she and Rayanne knew well that she had no way to insist. If she tried to push without someone of higher standing available to buttress her argument, Latel would never listen to her. Were she as strong as Allerria and able to look eye-to-eye with Latel, the encounter would have gone differently. Rayanne had had to abandon her strategy when the Mistress of Novices began to steer the conversation toward Ghedlyn: while Rayanne did not want to hide Ghedlyn from the woman, she did want to steer clear of Ghedlyn's talent. So, as long as Latel thought herself the better of it, Sildane would remain out of Rayanne's hands. Rayanne wished there had been some alternative despite her marginal standing at the low end of sisterhood strength. She had not missed the politics of power during her absence on the farm.

It was a frustrating line to tread, keeping Ghedlyn's gift secret while not keeping Ghedlyn herself a secret. Rayanne wished the Amyrlin had sent her a message saying she could tell anyone and everyone about the youngest channeling girl known.

"If Sildane were with us, we would need only to be visible in the open," Rayanne mumbled disconsolately. "Ghedlyn would come to us, even through a crowd."

"She may yet," Nordel responded shortly, understanding her meaning even if he had been unable to hear her words. "If she holds the power, you will feel her."

"Only if she holds the power," Rayanne reminded him stiffly. "We would have to stumble over her, otherwise."

They sectioned the island, running a drunkard's path from one white riverbank wall to the opposite in a general southward trend. Their tacking voyage steadily expanded from minutes to hours spent bumping in their saddles as they made their way from the west edge of the Tar Valon to the east and back again along a different route. They looked out over the Erinin on either side of the island as the sun went through its height and headed westward toward the Dragonmount. They frequently saw warders as they rode, turning even small piles of garbage and wandering in and out of many doors.

"The Amyrlin cannot possibly be expecting to disguise all this effort. Not all of these gaidin are Yellow," Nordel observed.

"The Amyrlin is making a mistake attempting to control any information at all about her. The more sisters who know of her," Rayanne reminded him, "the more likely she will survive to gain her potential."

"Who can say what has been told." Nordel said, his dark brown eyes carefully scanning the crannies of every shadow in vulpine fashion. "My brothers may simply have asked fellows for help. While truth flies no more freely among gaidin than sisters, if you hold the line with a man and guard his back, he becomes willing to guard your back even if he knows little of what you are about. We hold our tongues well. The knowledge may not yet have spread too far."

"But everyone has eyes," Rayanne returned, "especially Aes Sedai: the more Aes Sedai on the lookout for her, the better her chances at life. Besides, with so many warders about, your old friend would be a fool to lift his head now."

"Renard is no fool." Nordel answered shortly. A wistful, melancholy grin touched his lips--an odd expression on his brutal face.

Ragabash and Prancer brought them down low cobbled passages, through open-air markets and around whimsical Ogier buildings. Living in the city as a novice, an Accepted and finally as Aes Sedai, Rayanne had seen much of Tar Valon before, but saw new facades this day. They moved as quickly as possible to cover ever-greater ground and as slowly as they dared to give Ghedlyn a chance to come to them, but discovered no signs of the tiny, black-haired child. Some young girls similar in look to Ghedlyn several times set Rayanne forward in her saddle until they came closer and found the resemblance fleeting. Domani, especially Domani children, were not so very common this far from the Aryth Ocean.

"What will I tell her father?" Nordel wondered aloud. "I told Tradesman Prim I would send word when we expect to meet him in Tresgarde. He will be waiting. He still thinks we plan to return Ghedlyn to hiding on the farm."

"That would be foolish," Rayanne sighed. Her body was aching through and through from the jostling ride and her stomach most of all. But she would not give up. "After seeing how far the enemy is willing to go, I think she must stay in the Tower somehow. The Amyrlin will have to be persuaded."

"If we should find her," Nordel responded.

Rayanne could feel his uncertainty at that, though she was too tired to call him down. "We will find her."

It was evening before Rayanne's weakness finally forced them to abandon the search. Favoring her with an incredulous sidelong glance the moment she started to list wearily in her saddle, Nordel silently leaned over and confiscated her reins. He steered them back toward the Tower without a word of permission, though she really could not have formed a protest even if she wanted to.

Crowds were thinning with the onset of evening when they finally neared the gates leading back onto Tower grounds. A young man with bushy brown hair, genial gray eyes, squat limbs and an ample paunch hailed them from the back of a piebald pony, "Nordel! Ho, Rayanne Sedai, Nordel, I was sent to find the pair of you!"

Drawing Ragabash to a halt, Nordel measured the younger man with a steely silence. His hand brushed the pommel of his straight sword. Rayanne glanced from one man to the other, uncertain if she was about to see her warder sheathe his blade in another man's chest. In the corner of her mind, Nordel had coiled himself into a lethal spring very nearly ready to strike.

"The name's Tavis, gaidin," the man declared as he spurred his horse up beside them. He seemed not to notice the air which suddenly blackened Nordel, "Gaidin, the Amyrlin Seat sent me to place myself in the service of you and Rayanne Sedai." He produced an envelop with a yellow wax seal pressed with the Symbol of the Flame. Aside for the metal bracers he wore on either forearm, he seemed unarmed.

Rayanne received the envelop and broke the wax. Her eyes shot up to the man when she read the short message within, "When?! Tell me when?!"

"In the past hour, Aes Sedai," Tavis nodded, he sat forward in his saddle, apparently ill at ease. Rayanne might have been fooled by this man had she not just read the message. "The Amyrlin wants you back right away. They will sit in meeting almost at once."

"And who? By whom," Rayanne found herself shivering in excitement.

"That, I cannot say. I presume the Amyrlin Seat will have plenty to tell you soon."


	50. Book 3: Chapter 25

"Are you certain, child?" the dingy old man asked. "You cannot slip the Tower's claws once they are set into you. Freedom from that place comes at a high price. Oh, so high. The Guild sometimes helps girls leave Tar Valon who wish it, but it is best not to interfere with women wearing the shawl."

Ghedlyn stared through the whimsical buildings at the bone white spire that overshadowed everything lower. It stood at the highest point on the island and struck straight up into the heavens. She was not certain. She could sense the unspecific feel of women working with the one power in that place, even from this distance. Logically, Rayanne Sedai would be there and Sildane with her. Logically, some of the women there would help her, while others would try to harm her. Ghedlyn did not know what criteria could be applied to distinguish these two classes. People with different intents looked so much alike on the surface. Above all, maybe answers existed in the Tower to fill her burning questions about her own importance. She still did not understand why anyone would personally want her to die.

"I must go."

"Then we must part company here," the old man smiled sadly. "The Tower Guard does not like beggars of the Guild upsetting Tower grounds or the streets near their august gates. We are too unsightly."

Ruffling Ghedlyn's dusty black hair, the old beggar favored her with one last crooked grin and turned to go. Even knowing him for less than a day, she did not want to think about how the world would be without this generous, nameless man at her side. She noticed his slight limp in the way he favored one leg, but also saw how little it seemed to slow him. She could hardly imagine the strength proclaimed by his sinewy structure and leathery skin. She could hardly imagine the wealth of experience hidden behind his lopsided smile.

Before he could take two steps, Ghedlyn sprang to grab his wrist. She pressed her forehead against his knobby shoulder. She did not know exactly how to thank him or what to say with regard to his influence on her life, but she felt intensely... grateful? Without him, she would have died, she knew. Mouth working silently, Ghedlyn squeezed her eyes closed and held onto his bony wrist with both of her small hands. She could not help the sudden seizing in her heart that dragged her to the point of sobbing. Her favorite book dropped to the ground with a thump.

"Child?" he glanced over his shoulder back at her.

Ghedlyn allowed the source in, opened herself to the blast wave of _saidar_ and took a deep, shivering breath. If only she could do something about the beggar's limp. With the power, reaching ever so gently, she could feel how the structure in his leg was put together in disarray. She found the twisted relics of the old injury buried deep down within his flesh, linking the small pieces together in a fashion dissimilar to his uninjured leg. The injury was not new, but it had never completely healed.

She wished she knew the weave Rayanne Sedai used on Sildane to remove the crossbow bolt. If only she could heal. While Rayanne Sedai had prevented her from seeing that weave directly, Ghedlyn remembered the sensations it stirred in the power. She thought she knew the different whorls and eddies of Water, Air and Spirit all bundled up; she had felt it, even hiding with her eyes closed. At the time, she considered the various structural symmetries the weave might possess and had thought often about it since. She knew she did not know it yet, but she had some ideas about its basis. Given time, her insights would gradually deepen. For the moment, though, the healing weave was too complicated for her to duplicate without having actually seen it, but she thought she could reproduce some of its pieces. Still, anything short of Rayanne Sedai's Healing was not a fitting gift for the old man.

She bit her lip and resolved to do her best.

Filling herself to the fullest extent of her power, she planned three weaves that could together reproduce most of the Age Lace tensions she knew were needed by Rayanne Sedai's Healing, though specifically directed against the weakness in the old beggar's knee. Using Water, Air, Spirit and a little bit of Earth, she carefully, meticulously spun the structures into place, locking them together where aged flesh had not knit without a seam. Threads of power strung into bone and through muscle in the designed fashion. One waft of threads binding to an artery slewed unpredictably until she improvised a brace, guessing and feeling her way around the dynamics as best she could. One nexus threatened to collapse in the wrong direction until Ghedlyn caught it and corrected it by touch alone.

She finished in moments and her weaving pulled tight within the old beggar's flesh. The asymmetries stitched themselves closed while the old injury smoothed into health.

He gasped and shivered, goose flesh standing out from the leather parchment skin of his thin arms.

Satisfied at the receipt of her gift, Ghedlyn regretfully relinquished the joy of _saidar_, let go of the old man's wrist and backed away a few steps in expectation. Her dark gaze downcast, she stooped to recover her favorite book, tears on her face, at a loss for anything she might possibly say.

For a moment, the man regarded her through glistening, dazed eyes, fear and incomprehension warring to control his wrinkled visage. He closed his eyelids, swallowed hard and nodded, "I hope you find what you seek, Child. I fear that your way might be harder than many. If you should ever need the help of the Guild, you know where to find us. May the creator shield you and light your path." He bowed his head formally, very seriously and with great deference, as if he were addressing a queen.

Hugging her book, Ghedlyn watched him retreat into the shadows of the street, vanishing as if into the sediments of the ancient city.

"Ah..." perhaps she should have bade him a farewell...?

Shrouded in her ragged cloak and tattered dress, far far from any place she knew, Ghedlyn found herself once more alone. She reflexively flinched away from the sense of exposure, but forced herself to endure it. She would not grasp _saidar_ for comfort and she would not run away in search of a corner in which to hide, no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to go to the Tower.

The first thing she did was to search the bustling street for some sign of the man with the beard and hat--the frightening man who chased her through the night. Many people were about, in all manner of dress and cloak, but none she recognized. She had not been able to see the face of the well-spoken woman nor the calm man, and knew she would never know them now, but she looked for some sign of attention anyway. A woman carrying a basket of eggs held the hand of a little boy half Ghedlyn's age. A man in an apron heaved a cask onto his shoulder to carry into an open doorway. Men and women, strangers all, went about their business oblivious to the little girl dressed in the cloak and ragged dress who held a well-abused tome tight against her formless chest.

Careful of the book, Ghedlyn drew up the hood of her cloak to cover her head. If she did not want to be seen, she needed to do everything reasonably necessary not to be seen. She did her best to devise a workable strategy, accounting each variable and constant she could observe, then applied a methodic algorithm to select her best possible course of action. She watched where all the people were walking and planned a path that would take her in front of the fewest faces. She soon found herself skirting shadows along building fronts and trying to steal through causeway passages when draft horses or sedan chairs hid her from the greatest number of angles. She refused to run, even though she very much wanted to.

Her unfamiliarity with the roads of Tar Valon proved no deterrence when her destination was the largest visible structure for miles in every direction. She simply headed on as best she could up the steady hill following streets toward the great White Tower and the channeling she could feel within.

Ghedlyn froze, "Ah!"

Nearby, someone very strong held _saidar_ and spun threads of Water and Air, Water and Air in repetitions of five. A channeling woman of huge power was very close. Ghedlyn blinked her eyes and swallowed hard. She knew that whoever it was was much stronger than she herself. The channeling came from a side street up ahead along her path. If she wanted to go toward the Tower, she would not be able to avoid this woman.

She started walking, wrenching her stubborn feet as if from drying mud. A new weight accompanied each step. The well maintained flagstones of the roadway set together by skillful mason hands seemed to elongate beneath her feet, as if the distance of one pace had suddenly become ten. Ghedlyn shivered with fear. She wanted to run. She wanted to go to the Tower and find Rayanne Sedai and Sildane. She wanted someone to comfort her and tell her she was safe. She wanted to reach her destination and knew it would lead her toward this inevitable encounter.

After her good deed to help the old beggar, Ghedlyn did not doubt that this woman, certainly an Aes Sedai, had felt Ghedlyn weaving with the source. Ghedlyn had thrown her full strength against the task. Other channelers in close enough proximity would certainly have felt the weaving, especially someone this powerful. She could not guess the purpose of the repetitious Water-Air channeling, but did not doubt that this woman intended Ghedlyn to be able to feel her.

Knees knocking together in dread, she tried to decide whether running the opposite direction would be safer than risking exposure of herself to a powerful channeling woman that she did not know. Maybe running away was the trap.

She finally decided not to back down and not to flee. She continued on toward the Tower. As she drew closer, the channeling suddenly stopped.

"You came on despite it all. I wondered what you would choose. Of course, flight would be illogical. Andro, see who we have found," a tall, stately woman with long silver-gray hair and a snowy white dress strolled idly from the side street. She had a thrusting chin and sedate blue eyes. An older man built of leather and branches who wore a sword confidently on his hip moved at her elbow, his eyes constantly scanning the streets and buildings all around them. Ghedlyn saw immediately the woman's ageless face and the man's warder cloak.

The black-haired girl halted in her tracks, measuring the two newcomers without looking at them directly. This was the woman. She could feel the tremendous, overwhelming strength of this stately Aes Sedai in the power. She knew immediately that she would never reach that level and felt a sort of relief at the knowledge. They might one day be close, maybe even eye-to-eye, but the steel-white haired woman would always be the stronger. And, this woman sensed her depth as well, felt her potential, staring right back at her with complete knowledge of her ability.

"If you are the source of that weave I felt," she said casually, "one might logically presume you were attempting to burn down the entire city."

They came face to face. The elegant, graying Aes Sedai stood with head held high, looking down her nose. The little black-haired girl stared back, sidelong, measuring with her indirect onyx gaze. The elder loomed over the younger.

"So I see," the woman said. "The reasonable assumption would have a number of Yellow sisters aware of you."

"...Rayanne Aes Sedai..." Ghedlyn murmured, cocking her head to the side.

"Remarkable. You came quite far without a gaidin discovering you. And there are so many on the streets searching for you," she looked down at Ghedlyn as if they had been acquainted all of Ghedlyn's life.

The glow of _saidar_ filled the woman as quickly as breath and she whisked out with a weave of Air. Held one moment tight against Ghedlyn's chest, the leather bound volume with the knife scar through its cover suddenly bolted from her grasp and sailed into the air. The book found its way as easily as a flitting dove to perch upon the tall Aes Sedai's outstretched hand.

Her favorite book lost to her, Ghedlyn wanted badly to scream aloud, but bit sharply into the inside of her cheek, "Three, five, eight, thirteen..." she recited to herself, taking comfort in the oft-calculated series. She restrained herself from the terrific impulse to embrace her power.

"_Ful'grin Ahai Meticorum_?" the Aes Sedai said almost sadly, turning the book over so delicately that she might have been handling Sea Folk porcelain. "In such a state? The White has dutifully kept five copies transcribed these past three thousand years. We are few in number, so it did not escape anyone's notice that only four copies remained in the Ajah's quarters this past year. I suspect embarrassment kept a tongue or two stuck when someone might have taken responsibility--a few younger women these days wear the shawl with inconsistent pride, not owning up to their actions when their schemes run awry. And for the fifth copy of _Ful'grin_ to reappear in such disrepair in your hands? Someone should volunteer to be publicly birched."

They regarded one another again. Ghedlyn's fingers clenched and unclenched impotently at her sides. She wanted the book back.

The Aes Sedai opened the book and flipped through the pages, "Water damage? Smeared ink? Crinkled paper? Did someone attempt to put a sword through the cover?"

Ghedlyn kept silent. She felt naked without her book; some book had been a permanent fixture of her anatomy for nearly half of her short life. That book had saved her life. She felt so exposed.

"Did you read the _Ful'grin_, child?" the Aes Sedai asked conversationally while still leafing through the tome. "Did you understand it?"

Ghedlyn meshed her fingers behind her back and began to count flagstones. Was there some way she could get this Aes Sedai to return her book?

The woman's eyes narrowed, "I think you did. For such a response to be written on your face and carriage, you must know it cover to cover. I see." She tucked the book beneath her arm, "Well then, I suspect your first major chore upon donning novice white will be to transcribe a new copy to replace the one you ruined. That you did not run away once you felt me, it is logical to deduce that you are intent upon reaching the Tower yourself. To your benefit, undoubtedly, even if your first penance hangs over you before you are even properly in white. It is plain to see that you wish to have the book returned to your hands. Rest assured, child, after you replace what you have broken, we shall see to your writing of a personal copy."

Keeping her chin regally high, she turned with a precise flip of her snow-white dress and started off in the direction of the Tower. She did not bother to look back over her shoulder to see if anyone followed her; she simply expected it. The warder moved behind Ghedlyn and pushed her bodily into motion when he saw that she was too frozen to respond on her own. "Go on, child," he said, "Meilyn Sedai does not brook for hesitation."

Ghedlyn nearly squealed aloud when the warder touched her, but she once again forced herself to control and temperance. Her immediate analysis suggested that this woman was not one who would try to kill her. If this Aes Sedai decided to harm anyone, practically nothing could stop her. What if that changed?

"We shall see how much of the text you understood," the Aes Sedai, Meilyn, continued thoughtfully as she lead the way toward the Tower. "We shall see."

The little black haired girl found herself following whether she wanted to or not.


	51. Book 3: Chapter 26

If the solid walls of the empty storage cell were made of white stone like those in the Tower above, Sildane could not tell it. Under the dismal torchlight, the four surrounding surfaces seemed carved of formless gray-orange granite. The metal-banded door leading out of the miniscule chamber seemed reinforced to the point that a Trolloc would be hard pressed to breach it.

Sitting on the milking stool in the middle of the chilly room, Sildane found herself thinking often about old legends she sometimes heard from farm hands over a summer bonfire about the almost whimsical horrors of the Trolloc wars. She had not believed in the legends of Trollocs, mostly because her mother said they were bedtime scare stories, but this tiny room was causing her to rethink some of her conclusions. If the White Tower contained cells for holding Trollocs, this chamber might certainly be among them.

Looking miserable, Duvella sat with her arms crossed over her bosom on a second stool nearer to the door. The young woman kept her face almost as straight as an Aes Sedai might, though stray expressions would sometimes creep in and crinkle the corners of her mouth. Little remained of the kindly Accepted who showed Sildane to her room the night before. Once or twice, Duvella swallowed hard, or her green-gray eyes would get very large, as if expecting a specter to pop through the wall and perch on Sildane's shoulder, but she kept silent.

Sildane was deeply afraid. She was afraid for Ghedlyn and for herself. Of course, her friend's peril now seemed distant compared to her own. While she had not channeled directly against Latel Sedai, she wondered repeatedly what punishment might be in the offing.

When the stately, white-haired Aes Sedai showed her, politely, to this dreary, cramped chamber, Sildane had estimated her penance to be something simple--tidying up perhaps? It had not really registered to her that the woman had brought her deep into the bowels of the White Tower before deciding to stop. Sildane supposed such a minor penance would be too light for what she had done, but the woman seemed to lack any edge of cruelty. Despite her overwhelming Aes Sedai demeanor, Sildane could not help but like the woman. Then, when Duvella breathlessly reappeared, the Aes Sedai set the Accepted to watching Sildane and told them both to wait before departing without a backward glance. Sildane's first inkling that her fate might be harsher than mere chores dawned on her when heavy locks clattered into place after the stately Aes Sedai departed. Minutes of silence transformed painfully into crawling hours. By the time a servant brought a torch in to replace one that had nearly burned down, Sildane had significantly revised her expectations about the nature of her impending punishment. Now, Duvella seemed like a guard stationed to watch her on her hour of execution.

Her imagination had begun to run away with her.

Was Stilling an appropriate punishment for a rebellious novice? Sildane shivered at that thought. She did not think she had done anything so horrific to deserve such treatment, but she just could not be certain. This cell felt designed to hold an assassin who killed a king rather than a novice who channeled when she was not supposed to. Sildane hoped they were not planning on Stilling her, and she could not help dreading the remote possibility.

She jerked from her reverie directly into a full-fledged panic when the latches on the great door clattered and withdrew. Duvella sprang to her feet and Sildane did the same.

The hinges of the heavy door groan laconically as the portal swung outward into a forbidding passage also dimly lit. Latel Sedai, for once neatly clothed in a simple farm-wife's dress and her hair carefully straightened but for one unruly lock at her ear, appeared in the doorway. The Mistress of Novices wore her brown-fringed shawl.

"Aes Sedai," Duvella smoothly lifted her banded skirt and bobbed a curtsy.

"Aes... Aes Sedai," Sildane stuttered, also attempting to give her very best leg, though painfully aware of how fumbling she felt next to the Accepted. Embarrassed heat flooded her cheeks.

Her stolid expression patently unaffected, Latel nodded to them both in greeting. With two gliding steps--Sildane had not suspected Latel's ability to glide--she stooped and placed a bucket of water at Sildane's feet. "Child," she said, "Do be cooperative and form that weave for me. Mind you, the very same weave you did use on my office door during that... unfortunate... incident." She paused and added with a tiny hint of menace, "Do be weaving only that weave and none other."

"Y- yes Aes Sedai," Sildane stammered, rapidly blinking her eyes. She felt like she was going to start crying at any second.

She fumbled to meet the Aes Sedai's demand. At first, swamped by raging emotions of fear and helplessness, certain this might be her last time channeling, Sildane found herself unable to even touch the source. Try as she might to catch the feeling, _saidar_ skirted and flitted beyond her grasp. "I- I'm sorry... I..."

"You do be a better channeler than that," Latel Sedai muttered, planting her fists on her hips in determination to wait as long as it took, but clearly not satisfied with the prospect. Her impatience was tangible.

Sildane took a deep breath and struggled to find something of inner peace. She went through the breathing exercises and the focus drills until her frightened rabbit of a heart finally calmed within the cage of her ribs. The power was there, finally, light where there had been darkness a moment before.

When she at last caught hold of _saidar_ and began to weave, she found herself struggling with that Fire thread again. Always the Fire! "No..." the weave dissipated with an airy pop.

Latel Sedai almost frowned at her.

"I- I'm sorry...!" Sildane started again. She did not think she would ever be very good with Fire. Sweating from the exertion, she finally nursed the bucking Fire into place. Ghedlyn's loop snapped closed once more at Sildane's hand and rippled through the liquid contained within the bucket. She finished tying off the weave to the tune of water crackling into ice and causing the wooden pail to moan as it swelled.

"That will do," Latel Sedai declared.

Sildane released the source as if scalded.

Without again glancing at the frightened, bronze-haired girl, the Aes Sedai embraced the source herself and lifted the bucket to her hand with a weave of Air. She departed the chamber speaking not another word. The heavy door thumped closed and the latches ratcheted back into place with an air of permanence.

Relieved that nobody had tried to Still her, Sildane sank to her knees where she stood. She would be happy if she came out of this in one piece.

Duvella resettled herself on her stool and continued to watch the massive portal where the Aes Sedai had disappeared. She finally found her tongue, "Why did you do it?" Her words contained a slowness that contradicted the speed of her speech the day before.

Sildane sniffed, a tear trickling down her cheek. She was at first startled that the young woman had spoken to her, "Why did I do...?"

"Sildane," Duvella looked at her, "why did you attack the Mistress of Novices?"

"I- I did not exactly," Sildane swallowed hard and mopped wetness from her cheeks, "I did not attack her."

"You fought her," the Accepted returned, "Using channeling on the Mistress of Novices to lock her in her office is an attack. From a novice who can barely channel, that is a deliberate, premeditated attack. Nobody with a lick of sense would ever have attempted such a thing. Why did you?"

"I was not trying to hurt her," Sildane said defensively.

"I doubt you could have hurt her if you wanted to, channeling anyway. You're too slow and weak," the Accepted responded, "You could not possibly have had any illusions that you would escape the consequences, so you must have had a very good reason. What under the Light could you have been thinking?"

"My friend was..." Sildane stopped, remembering Romanda Sedai's instructions so long ago to keep her mouth closed. She wanted to defend her actions, "...my best friend is missing. She might be hurt or dying. I just wanted to help her. Latel Sedai would not let me go to help."

Duvella's green-gray eyes closed very tiredly and she deflated as if under exhaustion, "I have no notion how they plan to punish you, but I doubt it will be light. Is you friend worth putting yourself into such trouble?"

"I owe her everything," Sildane said. "I would not be at the Tower if not for her. She deserves to be here more than I do and if she does not make it, but I could have done something to help her and didn't, how can any punishment ever be enough?" Until she spoke the words, Sildane had not realized that she would make the same mistake all over again for exactly the same reasons. "I... I... I don't regret it." She felt strangely relaxed by the realization.

Duvella shook her head and smiled very slightly, "If you can sit here in this place with that kind of conviction, knowing what the repercussions might be and still feeling that way, you might well make a respectable sister someday if you survive long enough to reach the shawl. Most girls your age are still mooning over a distorted dream," she laughed at that, "I know I was."

The girl and young woman startled again when the latches in the reinforced door were drawn. Duvella went smoothly to her feet and began to straighten her dress. Sildane was still in the process of picking herself up off the cool stone floor as the portal swung out.

"Sildane!" a singsong voice bleated and a bedraggled mess rushed through the entry in a cloud of dust and tattered cloak.

"Ghed?" Sildane coughed in surprise.

The younger girl leaped onto Sildane and bodily embraced her. Ghedlyn was a horrendous mess: her cloak was mangled beyond recognition and her favorite white dress stained with mud, grass and rubbish. Her silken hair, normally straight and lustrously black was so curled and caked with dirt as to be unrecognizable. Most notably, she carried no book.

"Ghedlyn!" Sildane returned the smaller girl's hug fiercely. "I thought you were dead or gone. Oh, Ghedlyn!"

"Thank-you," Ghedlyn articulated weirdly. Tracks in the dirt on her cheeks suggested she had been weeping, but the gleam in her eyes was pure joy and relief. "Sildane, Thank-you."

Duvella curtsied to the tall Aes Sedai in the snowy dress filling the entry, "Meilyn Aes Sedai."

"Duvella, I apologize for disrupting your studies, but I hope you will stay with these two for a time longer," Meilyn looked down her nose at Duvella and blinked once somberly.

"Of course, Aes Sedai," Duvella curtsied again, "whatever is needed."

"They must stay here for a time longer until we decide what must be done. Likely, your assistance will be required in whatever solution is most adequate, so stand ready."

"I understand Aes Sedai," Duvella responded.

"Children," Meilyn Sedai addressed both Ghedlyn and Sildane, "be patient for a time. The issues at hand are more complicated than either of you may be aware and I would assure you that you are not in this place for your deliberate discomfort. Remember that you do have a penance coming of your own, Sildane, but do not fear it to be disproportionate to the crime."

"Y- yes, Aes Sedai," Sildane tried to curtsy, but Ghedlyn was clamped onto her with exactly no intention of letting go.

"Ghedlyn," the Aes Sedai said, "we will continue our discussion soon."

Not directly meeting the Aes Sedai's eyes, Ghedlyn bowed her head. "Yes," was all she said.

Sildane felt something odd from her friend, something she had never noticed before. For just a moment, this person was utterly different from the helpless girl she had known even a day before. _What happened to you, Ghedlyn?_ She wanted to ask.

"I will keep an eye on them, Meilyn Aes Sedai," Duvella said as the imposing woman turned and left. Sildane once again marveled at the stately Aes Sedai's radiant strength in the one power. The heavy door thudded closed and locks were ratcheted back into place.

Hugging her friend, Sildane dug with her fingers to stroke the some of the grime out of Ghedlyn's tousled hair, "What is it? What happened Ghed?"

"Thank-you, Sildane," Ghedlyn repeated, her musical voice cracking. Tears streamed down her face from her onyx black eyes, "Thank-you for every time."

"Are you going to be okay?" Sildane asked. "You are not injured, are you?"

"Thank-you."

Still standing near the closed cell door, Duvella's green-gray eyes had gone as wide as saucer plates and her jaw hung open as she watched the two girls reacquainting themselves. "By the Light of the Creator Above... how is that possible??" What Sildane took for granted, the Accepted was realizing for the very first time.


	52. Book 3: Chapter 27

"You will have to wait gaidin, she must come alone."

The lanky warder's brutal face solidified into a series of icy lines and the muscles in his jaw twitched. Rayanne could tell that he did not like the idea of being away from her in the slightest; in the back of her mind, he was a bramble of lethal tension and nerves.

The serving woman drew back in reflexive fright, "Please forgive me, gaidin, my instructions from the Amyrlin Seat were specific, Rayanne Sedai is to come unaccompanied."

Rayanne touched Nordel's arm. Though exhausted and admittedly unstable, she drew what strength she could from his boundless loyalty. "I will be well. I ask that you wait for me here."

"You can barely navigate stairs my lady," the slender warder growled, "Would you have me become a laughing stock should you fall and break your neck?"

"I think I can manage," Rayanne assured him, "After this conference, it will be right to bed for me."

"Gaidin, if it will ease your mind," the serving woman piped up, "I shall see to it that a tray of food is brought in for Rayanne Sedai during the conference. We can accommodate her health."

Nordel's dark eyes flicked between Rayanne and the serving woman several times before he finally nodded. The serving woman clapped her hands once and sent a minor subordinate scurrying. Rayanne could tell that the concession did not leave her warder at all satisfied, but he would bear disappointment in silence.

The frumpy young man Tavis patted Nordel on the shoulder, "Try not to worry yourself, my man. She will be looked after. Won't you come with me, then? If I'm not mistaken about some of what the Amyrlin has to say, we shall have some provisioning to arrange."

Looking momentarily like he wanted to remove Tavis's easy tongue from between his smiling lips, Nordel grudgingly nodded. "Very well." He ended up stalking away like a wolf with his tail tucked. Rayanne could sense his backward glances.

She sighed to herself; she hoped this phase of over-compensation would diminish in the near future because she did not want to have to set him down too frequently. Nordel was usually such a gentle, easy-going spirit and this new side to him showed something not entirely welcome. Who could say why a man might suddenly develop such quirks.

The servant woman led Rayanne on a steeplechase through curving corridors and down spiraling flights of stairs. Serving men and women lit braziers and oil lamps for the evening in common rooms or hustled to carry meals up high in the Tower for Aes Sedai who had chosen to dine privately. The servant showed Rayanne ever downward, away from familiar places into cramped passageways lit by infrequent torches. Where the common rooms hummed with people noise, novices and Accepted chattering, servants barking orders or Aes Sedai pontificating, the passages beneath the Tower sat more quietly than a crypt. Soon, they passed along dark lengths of corridor where a layer of dust caked the floors. When the serving woman procured a wavering torch from a holder, Rayanne took it as a cue and embraced the power to weave herself a ball of light. She had been in the sublevel galleries before --all Aes Sedai visited these corridors first for the Accepted test and later to reach the shawl-- but the serving woman took her off in a new direction. Of course, so deep in the foundations of Tar Valon, nearly every direction could be a new direction carved two thousand years before and long since forgotten.

When the narrow passage seemed at risk of tracking off into infinite darkness, the serving woman abruptly stopped at a heavy door banded with iron. She rapped on the surface with her knuckles four times crisply, then worked the lever and opened the portal inward.

"At last," a woman said as Rayanne stepped across the threshold.

Within the surprisingly well-lit but nearly empty chamber, walled in ancient gray stone and undecorated, a trestle table had been set with bench seating. A group of Aes Sedai in their best shawls held conference with the scholarly woman who wore the seven color stole.

"Daughter, please approach," the Amyrlin Seat instructed.

"Mother," Rayanne made dignified leg and kissed the Amyrlin's ring. She was pleased she had worn her yellow shawl this day, even if the afternoon's ride had left her somewhat the worse for wear.

Once refreshment arrived for Rayanne, the Amyrlin took her place on a stool at the head of the table and gestured the other Aes Sedai to be seated.

Rayanne took stock of the other six women. She knew Romanda and Allerria well, both in their Yellow shawls and pointedly avoiding signs of familiarity. Of Latel Opfray, the Mistress of Novices, Rayanne knew less, though remembered well the many times she had interacted with the woman as Aes Sedai and as Accepted and novice before that. Latel dressed much more neatly now than when they met earlier in the day and her hair was actually combed. Rayanne swallowed hard and vowed to keep her serenity; she knew the three other sisters also, but not because she had ever dealt with them personally. Kerene Nagashi of the Green Ajah sat with her arms crossed over her breast, watching Rayanne with something just short of open curiosity. Kerene was old as Aes Sedai went, though she did not particularly seem it, and extremely powerful. Gitara Moroso, an ancient sister of the Blue Ajah, everyone knew for her wisdom and for her rare gift of Foretelling. The Blue sister, whose snow white-hair cascaded in a waterfall over her generous curves and ostentatious dress, sat nearly unmoving, staring off distantly through the wall. Beside Gitara sat another sister everyone knew: Meilyn Arganya of the White Ajah. Meilyn was also among the very oldest Aes Sedai and the most powerful sister currently in the Tower--perhaps the most powerful alive if Cadsuane Malaidhrin were no longer living, not that anyone in the Tower knew for certain where _she_ might be. Meilyn appraised Rayanne with a professional eye, direct and level, her stark silver hair thrown back over her shoulders and her chin ever-thrusting. The White sister was well known for her congenial nature and her ability to work freely with sisters of every Ajah and was widely appreciated for that talent. In rare disputes between Ajahs, Meilyn had a reputation for moderation that many Gray sisters admired.

Of the group assembled, Rayanne felt like a child allowed to sit for the first time among adults. She was by far the weakest and youngest woman present. She schooled herself in an effort to hide her disappointment; among these women, nearly anything she said would be little more than a footnote. If Meilyn or Kerene so much as sneezed, many sisters in the Tower would be climbing over one another to offer a handkerchief.

Given the mixture of women present, the only way Rayanne would be invited was because of Ghedlyn. She had no other reason to find herself among such august company. Would she be able to provide her younger charge with the representation the girl so desperately needed? There was no choice since the girl had no one else. While Romanda's opinions sometimes coincided with Ghedlyn's well-being, Allerria almost always made herself the opposing view and neither of the other two Yellows knew the girl the way Rayanne did. Still, a wonderful opportunity existed: if Gitara or even Meilyn could be persuaded, Ghedlyn would have the very best champion possible.

_If this is The Battle_, Rayanne thought to herself, _I will fight to my last breath and take as many down with me as I possibly can_.

Ever bookish, Kirin Melway pushed up her spectacles. The Amyrlin Seat embraced _saidar_ and quickly wove a ward against eavesdropping. "Latel," she began informally, "did you do as we discussed?"

"Yes Mother. It do be as you instructed," the Mistress of Novices lifted a wooden bucket from the floor and placed it on the table so that the other Aes Sedai could easily see it.

"So I see," Kerene pulled the bucket across in front of herself and squinted for a look. Rayanne saw for the first time that the bucket contained a layer of ice, which the Green sister tapped with her knuckles.

"Interesting," Gitara added, looking over Kerene's shoulder.

Meilyn remained quiet, her gaze roving idly from the Amyrlin to the three Yellow sisters. Rayanne squirmed when those sharp blue eyes passed over her.

"It do be as I said," Latel addressed the others. "And on her first day in the Tower. Verin mentioned she holds the power very easily for one so young and it do be a plain surprise to me that it do be so."

"To channel so at her age?" Kirin prompted.

When Kerene relinquished the bucket and neither Meilyn nor Gitara made a move for a closer look, Romanda slid it around to inspect it as well. Rayanne found herself wondering what exactly was so interesting about the ice, though she would be the last woman at the table with an opportunity to examine it closely. "It is unique," Romanda exclaimed shortly.

Allerria gave a little snort, but held her tongue.

"The weave is remarkably tight," Kerene agreed, her black eyes fixing for a bare instant on Rayanne.

Rayanne bit her lip and spoke, "Most of what Ghedlyn weaves is tight."

"Ghedlyn, hah!" Latel barked.

Romanda directed a sharp look at Rayanne, willing her not to say anything else. Realizing she must have made some mistake, Rayanne struggled desperately to keep the heat from flooding her cheeks.

"Ghedlyn you say?" Kerene smiled slightly.

"This child Ghedlyn do be a myth," Latel continued indignantly, "That weave came out of Sildane! If the other girl has half Sildane's manners, the Tower do be faced with a long few years. Your teaching of Tower custom do be abhorrent Rayanne..."

Romanda slid the bucket over in front of her. Rayanne saw immediately the small loop weave tied off within the water, forming and maintaining a solid block of ice. "That weave...!" Rayanne gasped. It was the weave Ghedlyn created while they were on the south harbor dock--the tiny loop that made water change into ice with almost no effort in the power.

"That you could not cut through that weave is no surprise, Latel," Gitara laughed lightly. "You have ever been far too obtuse. Not to worry child," the ancient Aes Sedai addressed Rayanne, "what you taught has certainly produced interesting results, and touched a few nerves, but harmed no one."

Rayanne swallowed the insult of being called a "child" by another Aes Sedai, reminding herself that practically everyone was "child" as far as Gitara Moroso was concerned.

"Harmed no one yet," Latel grumbled.

"Sildane decided on an... impertinent... display of rebellion," the Amyrlin explained for Rayanne's benefit. "Not long after you left, I'm told. The girl poured a bucket full of water down the outside of a door and used _that_ weave _there_," she indicated the bucket, "to bind ice into the frame. No harm done, but that our stalwart Mistress of Novices was trapped on the other side of the door and unable to come through short of channeling to tear the door itself apart. The weave is so tight that she was unable to get hold of it to sever it."

"Sildane did!" Rayanne gasped in amazement. Inwardly, she cheered. Sildane had seen Ghedlyn weave that pattern once, then used it to put a full, powerful, dignified Aes Sedai to shame. Whatever else Sildane did, she would not get kicked out of the Tower short of being prodded through the Accepted test. "I do not know that weave yet. She learned it from someone other than myself."

"Then this was Ghedlyn's work?" Romanda asked. Her voice betrayed some amazement, "I knew she created weaves, but this..."

Rayanne nodded, "She created it after we disembarked from the river ship in South Harbor, before she was lost yesterday."

Meilyn spoke for the first time, "Will you tell us about this other child? Ghedlyn?"

Rayanne took her request as a weighted order and swallowed hard. She glanced toward the Amyrlin.

"Please," Kirin nodded. "You know the girl best of any of us. Tell it all."

This was the chance. "Ghedlyn is..." she hesitated, uncertain how to sum up the little black-haired girl in a way that did her appropriate justice. "Ghedlyn is gifted. The Amyrlin Seat placed her in my care when the girl's father brought her to the Tower some six years ago. We have been attempting to keep her secret since then, so she has been kept on a farm rather than in the Tower itself. She was not yet ready to become a novice."

"You specialize in healing mental illness do you not?" Meilyn said. "One might deduce the girl suffers such a malady."

Rayanne was thrilled that the powerful, silver-haired woman knew anything about her work. She struggled to keep from blushing before continuing on, "Ghedlyn may have an illness of the mind, but where that illness stops and her gift begins, I cannot rightly say. In some regards, I think now that the illness is her gift and that the two cannot be taken apart. Ghedlyn is a wilder who has been able to touch the source since she was very young."

"Younger than Sildane is now?" Kerene asked.

"Younger than..." Rayanne gave herself s pause. Kerene had made an unfounded assumption about Ghedlyn's age, "Ghedlyn _is_ younger than Sildane _now_."

The three older Aes Sedai absorbed the revelation without any change of expression. Gitara's smile became slightly more false and Kerene seemed to harden, but nothing else. Meilyn nodded absently, as if the story were not at all surprising.

"The girl was six!" Allerria broke in, but Romanda placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from interrupting.

Rayanne nodded, "She was younger than six when she first embraced the power. How much younger, we cannot know. It affected her deeply. Unlike other wilders, she is backward. She has no blocks and absolutely no cognitive inhibitions. For her, I think, _saidar_ is more real than the rest of our world. She does not understand or see the real world as you or I do, and maybe that is her gift and her curse."

"As a Wilder, the girl is blocked from reality rather than blocked from channeling," Romanda added quietly.

"It took me years to get her to actually channel, but once she did, she demonstrated huge leaps in skill very quickly," Rayanne continued. "In topics where she is disinterested, she learns slowly, which is why it took so long to get her to channel... she all but ignores lessons in History, for example. But, when she decides to learn, she is a sponge. I have never seen any girl absorb knowledge so quickly, ever. She read on her own with only the tiniest pushing. She learned arithmetic faster than I could present it to her and has been teaching herself more difficult math for years now. In that subject, she already knows more than I do by a huge margin."

Meilyn traded a very tiny candid look with the Amyrlin Seat, who did not bat an eyelid.

"While she is horribly crippled when it comes to understand the hows and whens of normal behavior and does not accept changes of any sort in her life easily, she applies her ability to channeling freely. Once I got her to actually channel, she began to demonstrate a gift I have never seen before, not in any girl with the spark. Maybe Latel knows better of this than I since she studies channeling girls, but this girl's gift is something incredible."

"Try not to gush so, child," Gitara prompted.

Rayanne bit her lip and swallowed hard in embarrassment. She wanted to spit the next, to throw it in all their faces and make them realize the truth. She focused her eyes on the Amyrlin since that woman also knew the truth, "Next to her, _we_ are all blocked. Every woman who learns to channel a weave can make that weave work best only in the way she first learned it. In that one way, Ghedlyn is not crippled. She is unblocked. She can learn a weave however it is shown to her and then she can change it and change it and change it again until the weave is something else altogether. She can take pieces of weaves from scratch straight out of her mind and mix them together as if she were painting a picture and can create whatever at all she chooses. She sees something I produce and then she mangles it backward into something I did not intend. In the course of teaching her, I have had to struggle to keep her from seeing weaves that she might rework into Light knows what! She is strong in the power, oh yes, strong like no girl you have ever seen, but her gift is not her strength. Her gift is her freedom." She reached over and tapped the bucket, "This weave she created that makes ice out of water, which Latel was unable to cut, is the very least of what she can do."

Kerene looked incredulous. Gitara and Meilyn were both blank.

"Am I to presume you knew of this child?" Kerene addressed to Amyrlin.

Kirin nodded, "Thefgang Mazerat, only in the form of a girl who channels. I had hoped."

"Not all of us believe that," Allerria reminded them in a stiff voice, but did not elaborate.

In the ensuing silence, Rayanne saw her opportunity to set her second barb, "We arranged to bring her north and to evaluate her progress. On the way..."

"The agreement," Allerria interrupted, "was to bring the child north and walk her through the Arches. One year ago we agreed that, when you were still having problems proving whether or not she could even channel."

"I still do not know if she's ready for the Arches," Rayanne protested. "She is still so young."

"It was the benchmark we all decided upon: the Amyrlin provided me with that book to give to the girl and you were to ready her for the Arches."

"The book was the _Ful'grin Ahai Meticorum_?" Meilyn asked quietly.

"It was," Allerria said, "The Amyrlin wants to..."

Meilyn held up her hand to halt the younger woman, "Given the book, it is a simple deduction what she has in mind. But, we should cross no more than a single bridge at a time."

"It breaks an Oath," Rayanne said upon remembering when she first gave Ghedlyn the book. "I- I could not give her the book because of the Oath. I gave it to Sildane to give to Ghedlyn."

"Be easy, daughter," the Amyrlin put in gently. "We are a long way yet from that consideration. Let us focus on the present before we look years into the future."

Meilyn frowned slightly, "No one has understood _Ful'grin_ well enough in three thousand years. If I catch your meaning, it is an audacious plan."

"Do you disagree with it?" Kirin focused on the silver-haired sister, who had retreated into a cool blankness.

Rayanne seized the moment, knowing Allerria pounced in the last time she tried to set her second barb, "I know I brought her north to evaluate her, but the original plan was to return her to the farm if she manages to... pass the Arches. I think returning to the farm will leave her too exposed. She has to remain in the White Tower."

"You refer to the attack on the road?" Kerene asked. The Green sister had immediately fixated on the notion of combat.

"The attack on the road," Rayanne said, "and the attack here in Tar Valon. Someone wants Ghedlyn dead. I think she needs to be protected and I know I can't do that alone."

"Allowing the child to stay in the Tower is asking for a trouble," Allerria exclaimed.

"Kerene," Kirin focused on the Green sister, "These attacks are a grave concern. Regardless of what we decide to do with the child, we must gain further intelligence about who is interested in eliminating the girl and how exactly they determined where she would be. After we have finished here, I wish you to speak at length with Rayanne about these attacks and spearhead our countering effort. I had hoped Rayanne and her warder would aid you directly and I have provided Tavis. It must be quietly done."

The darkly beautiful Green Ajah sister smiled and nodded, "Quiet is the best way."

"She should not be in the Tower," Allerria repeated herself. "This child is dangerous. Can we afford to have her skills appearing in other novice girls? Sildane would be but the first..."

The Amyrlin Seat sighed elaborately, "There is another aspect here that we must address, beyond simply the attack on the road and whether or not the child is to stay in the Tower." She traded a glance with the Blue Sister, Gitara Moroso.

"If you feel more sisters should know. It is your discretion," the woman with snow-white hair bowed her head. "Others in the Tower will learn eventually. A few sitters know already. The child may be one referred to..."

Kirin nodded, "They should know." She then glanced at the three Yellows. "What you are to hear now is Sealed to the Seat. You will utter not a word of it beyond the women in this room."

Gitara faced the other Aes Sedai and cleared her throat. "Servants live now who will fight in the Final Battle. Brains are born, brawn and steel; women to march, women to hold and women who will knit and wheedle. First is born of those who precede Him to come..."

Allerria, about to raise another argument, froze with her mouth open. Romanda's eyes widened marginally. Rayanne felt as if a fist of ice had been lodged in her chest, hammered solidly into place by the dull thudding of her heart.

Allerria recovered enough to speak first, "What?"

"Tarmon Gai'don is coming," Kirin interpreted. "Even now, the Dark One stirs in his prison and his followers lay their plans. The Dragon may be reborn to this life on a not too distant day. Aes Sedai live now who will guide him and fight in the Last Battle."

"If that is how you would interpret it," Gitara shrugged noncommittally. "It may not always say what you think."

Rayanne's spinning brain caught slowly onto the realization that she was hearing the results of a Foretelling.

Gitara glanced to Meilyn and Kerene, then looked over at the three Yellow sisters.

"I had wondered when you would mention something like this," Kerene purred. "With Gitara in the room, one can rest assured the topic will eventually sway in an interesting direction. It seems you and I will put the fear of the Light into a few friends of the Shadow, will we not Rayanne?"

Rayanne could not speak. The Dragon Reborn? She wanted very badly to go back to ministering for depressed, lovesick farm girls. How had this happened? How had she ended up in the middle of this discussion? Her whole purpose had been Ghedlyn's well-being and this discussion seemed removed to an entirely different reality. Fight to the end? She had come into this conference willing to fight to an end, but unaware of how literal the notion could become and how quickly it happened. Fight to an end maybe, but to the Last Battle itself?

Kirin Melway smiled sadly, "You want the girl kept from the Tower, Allerria? I wish there were an easy choice. You want to avoid addressing Oaths, Rayanne? If only the Dark One were a mere mortal Dreadlord."

Meilyn chose that moment to reenter the discussion, "You asked whether I agree, Mother? With the Last Battle too close at hand, I look at my beloved White Tower and I grieve. Fewer than a hundred novices in a quarter designed for thousands. A handful of Accepted where there should be ten times as many. The Ajahs fill but a fraction of their allotted spaces. We of the White Ajah prize the refinement of theory to know how all things work and, of all Ajahs, we see consequences more sharply than any other. The histories of the Trolloc wars tell us the least of what will be in store and we Aes Sedai are fewer now than we were then. As we are, the bare statistics say that we are not nearly enough. If the Last Battle is less than fifty years distant, we are not ready to fight in it."

The Amyrlin nodded in agreement, "Hard choices will have to be made."

"More than that," Meilyn continued, "Latel may be indignant, but I see a young girl on her first day in the Tower who embarrassed a fully trained Aes Sedai with a unique channeling trick. Does that not show Ghedlyn's worth? The ability to make one novice with very little skill count for greater than she did? This girl might make _all_ Aes Sedai count as more. It is no steep jump of logic to understand why an enemy of the Aes Sedai, _any_ enemy of the Aes Sedai, would want her dead. If Ghedlyn is worth such, we cannot afford to let her go and we would be foolish not to put every tool in her hands necessary to make _her_ count for more."

Made dizzy by the revelation of the Last Battle, Rayanne almost missed the sign she had been waiting for. The most powerful channeling woman in the Tower had taken up Ghedlyn's cause.

Allerria gave a strangled noise. Unable to contain herself, she spouted, "Would you look at yourselves and see what is happening? Three of the most powerful channeling women of the last thousand years and doting on a girl who is not even a novice."

"Who's doting?" Kerene asked, "Some of us are merely listening."

"Then listen to the full argument," Allerria responded, voice trembling. Her reddened face suggested that she well knew she was standing her ground against a woman stronger in the power than she, "This girl has none of the qualities that make an Aes Sedai. Serenity is beyond her. She thinks inwardly and is guided by drives and impulses alone. Maybe she can channel in a way no one has ever seen, but it takes far more than channeling to make a woman who can wear the shawl. Maybe she does have talent, but she is gravely ill in a dangerous fashion. How is she not like a man who channels? Look at what we do to Them! The Red Ajah is the largest in the Tower and I know you, Kerene, have participated in hunts for a few channeling men. What if this girl should create something we do not foresee? What if she has nothing at all to do with any Foretellings? With her strength and her "talent" she could hurt many people before she is contained. If we Gentle insane men, how can we possibly speak of placing an insane woman on a pedestal above us all?"

Kirin nodded blandly, though the expression on her face said nothing about whether she agreed with Allerria's points or not.

"The mess around this child is only going to deepen," Allerria continued on, "We hide her and then not and then hide her again? Most of the Tower knows the Yellow was scouring the city for someone when she went missing. You all know we cannot hide that she exists or that the Yellow is willing believe her important. We will not be able to keep her secret. If you had met her, you would know that we cannot hide her among the novices; Rayanne herself can tell you that the girl will be a screaming wreck for a month just because we moved her off the farm. Standing near her, you will know why she cannot be hidden, especially from channeling women who are not aware of her traits. If we simply let her loose in the Tower, every channeling woman, every Aes Sedai, Accept and novice will know who she is within the day. Whatever enemies she has, they will know exactly where she is immediately. Maybe her strength in the power is not her true gift, but it will certainly be the greatest liability in protecting her."

"The more people in the Tower who know she exists," Rayanne asserted quietly, repeating an argument she had made many times, "the more likely she will survive to reach her potential. I have told you before that I'm not enough to protect her by myself."

"Stepping away from custom do be dangerous too," the Mistress of Novices said. She looked a bit peaked from some of the discussion. "Training of channeling girls do no be a new challenge. It do be handled just so because that do be the safest of ways. Three thousand years of training experience can no be false. The one who do be different will be the one to burn out or harm other girls around her. This do be why Wilders must be handled with care. I have yet to meet this child of which you speak, but I fear the special case that overshadows her peers. Picking favorites upsets all."

The Amyrlin Seat had continued to nod, "These are all valid points. Kerene, it will be essential that you and Rayanne learn more about who threatens the girl if we are to protect her."

"Of course, Mother," Kerene bowed her head.

"Latel, because she is dangerous, you will need to be involved directly in her training," the Amyrlin continued. "She may be a special case, but so too are all Wilders. You will have to confer with Rayanne to learn what you can of her habits. I know you are against her returning to the Tower, Allerria, but I really do not see how we can send her away without the risk of losing the advantages Meilyn suggested. Have you anything to add, Romanda; you have been surprisingly quiet."

"No Mother," Romanda said, "I had a feeling this day would eventually come. My interest is in the solidarity of the Tower, whatever that might entail."

"You must aid Latel, then," the Amyrlin went on, "the child's special nature will demand some attention to her environment to help regulate her more unfortunate qualities. You may need to help as well, Allerria; I know your thoughts about the girl's value, but I believe your dissent lends us all some caution."

"As you say, Mother," Allerria responded. She did not look happy, but she would acquiesce.

"Mother," Meilyn put in, "I have some notions about protecting the girl. As Allerria said, we cannot hide her completely, but we can diminish her presence. I've met with the child, felt her strength and seen hints of her intellect, so it could be possible. The White Ajah may have a means to help camouflage her peculiarity and make it more simple to mask her among typical novices. As there are so few of us, we retain fewer secrets than the other Ajahs, but we do have a few tools collected over the years..."

The powerful, silver-haired Aes Sedai surrounded herself in the glow of _saidar_, then set to work channeling an unusual weave. She spun mostly with Spirit, but mixed in small threads of the other four powers. When she finished, she settled the weave over herself and allowed it to sink into her body.

Rayanne gasped: she could no longer sense Meilyn's channeling ability even though the woman held the power right in front of her! Were she unable to sense the weave maintaining the trick, she would not have believed it.

Meilyn completed her work by turning the strange weave inside out, making it seem to implode upon itself and vanish! The stately, silver-haired woman sitting across the trestle table now seemed not to have one whit of channeling ability beyond her ageless Aes Sedai face.

"That is some trick," Allerria commented in awe.

"We of the White have used inversion and ability masking for centuries to help maintain our anonymity whenever we leave the Tower. These are among the very few secret weaves kept by the White. We are small and non-combative, so any measures that help us avoid becoming embroiled in conflicts involving channeling when we are out of the Tower can be useful," Meilyn explained. "I trust all of you will treat this knowledge with a suitable respect."

"How does that help Ghedlyn?" Rayanne asked, "People here will notice a girl who can channel but seems to lack the ability."

"Have faith in the child," Meilyn smiled, "you just finished telling us that she is free to modify weaves however she chooses. The ability masking weave is logically the best place to start for creating a weave that only masks part of one's ability."

"Just so," the Amyrlin agreed, "Meilyn, I hope you will provide your assistance in training the girl as well. Of everyone in this room, only you have even a cursory understanding of _Ful'grin Ahai Meticorum_."

"I would not have it any other way," the silver-haired Aes Sedai responded.

The Amyrlin nodded, "Then that leads us to the final order of business. As Allerria will undoubtedly insist, the child must walk through the Arches."

"That was the agreed benchmark," Allerria said.

"Wait a moment," all propriety forgotten, Rayanne sprang to her feet, "I thought we agreed she needed protecting. To risk her in the Arches... that's foolish. If she is lost, all our arrangements now will be for naught."

"But a girl cannot become Aes Sedai without going through the Arches," Kerene said simply, a statement with which Rayanne could raise no argument.

"This girl needs to become Aes Sedai. If she does not come out of the Arches, then she logically could not have been part of the Foretelling," Meilyn traded a look with Gitara before her sharp eyes once again settled on Rayanne. "Consider it a part of the test to find out if she is truly important."

"If she makes it through the Arches," Allerria said, "I will believe more of her than I do. If she is lost, then it will be to our ultimate good. Rayanne, it must be done. Remember: the test is the reason you brought her north from the farm in the first place."

Blank-faced, Romanda shrugged when Rayanne looked to her for help. Latel also watched Rayanne, a hint of pity in her large eyes.

As the weakest woman in the room, Rayanne knew she had run out of leverage. She looked over each ageless face in turn and saw a small amount of sympathy, but also resolve.

Ghedlyn would have to do this one thing for herself. She would need to walk through the Arches and survive it.

"Then it will be done this very night," the Amyrlin said, adjusting her spectacles.

"Mother, may I speak with her before?"

"That is permissible," Kirin Melway responded, "but remember that there are always some forms to follow."

* * *

End of Book 3


	53. The First Arch

**Youngest Channeler: The First Arch**

by viggen

Ghedlyn wanted badly to have her question answered, but Rayanne Sedai still seemed to be ignoring it. "Why was it me? Me why?"

The dim chamber lit by the lonely torch bustled with a frantic activity, even though no one seemed willing to speak. Ghedlyn did not like the atmosphere of strangeness. Servants in black livery marked with the white flame brought in a hammered brass tub and buckets of water which Rayanne Sedai warmed using a simple, symmetric, three-node Fire weave. Sildane, Rayanne and the Accepted Ghedlyn did not know --Duvella-- all cooperated to quickly clean her. They rid her of the torn, stained dress, shift and cloak, then set to work ladling water over her body in the tub to rinse away the dried cake of dirt.

She did not like being touched. Ghedlyn bit her lip and stifled a squeal every time hands brushed against her unclothed body, but she did her best to endure. She was shaking with anxiety, shivering with violation, but found temperance. Sildane looked askance at her every time someone touched her, waiting for her to burst out, but she staunchly refused. She twitched when Duvella helped scrub soap into her crusted hair and clenched the side of the tub with white fingers, but persisted in shaking silence. She trembled when Rayanne sponged her back and belly. She picked Sildane's face as a comfortable focus and refused to break eye contact.

"All is well, Ghed," Sildane assured her, patting her hand. "Do not worry about Duvella, she's a friend."

Ghedlyn saw her mentor shake her leonine head in amazement, plainly surprised at Ghedlyn's stubborn exertion of control. "There is so much you still need to know. You are not yet ready."

After Rayanne Sedai toweled Ghedlyn off with a linen sheet, Duvella slipped a fresh new shift over her head and Sildane a brand new white dress. It was cut differently than the dress Ghedlyn preferred to wear, but she refused to do more than bear the revelation in silence. Rayanne Sedai used a brush to comb the rats from her hair until it ran in a silken black waterfall down her back.

"Why me?" Ghedlyn tried again, changing her tact, "why always me when always it is me?"

"I do not understand what you are asking," Rayanne Sedai said. "Do you remember when I told you about the test?"

"I remember," Ghedlyn affirmed, switching back to the matter at hand, "You must know why it is always me or you would not protect me and Sildane would not protect me and Nordel would not protect me. You must know why it is always me. Why is it always me and not Sildane, though Sildane stands up to protect me when it's me?"

Sildane pursed her lips and seemed about to answer, but Rayanne Sedai cast a quick glance at her. "You must remember about the test Ghedlyn. You are going to be tested to see whether you can go on to become Aes Sedai. I have told you about the test. Most girls have a right to refuse, but you alone cannot. You are not allowed to refuse, whether you want to or not. If a normal girl refuses to try this test three times, she is put out of the Tower, but you are too dangerous to be allowed to leave..."

"Why am I too dangerous?" Ghedlyn seized onto the one tiny hint her Aes Sedai gave her. "Why am I too dangerous and Sildane not too dangerous? Is this why it is always me?"

"Ghedlyn," Rayanne Sedai put her hands on either side of her face and forced their eyes to meet. The blond Aes Sedai had such intense ice blue eyes that Ghedlyn wanted to squirm and look away, but she resisted the impulse. "Ghedlyn, this test is very difficult. It will not make you happy. It will hurt you a lot. You... you may not survive it. If you want to understand why you are too dangerous to be allowed to leave the Tower, you must come through this test. Some girls go into this and they do not return from it, ever."

Ghedlyn stared at her in silence, digesting what she had said.

She had estimated the existence of an array of dangers in the Tower, but also anticipated that meeting up with Sildane and Rayanne Sedai again would help to protect her from them. The possibility that Rayanne Sedai would deliberately permit her to fall directly into some sort of hazard had been of exceptionally low probability. She wondered now if the best decision would have been to avoid the Tower rather than to seek it out. She reminded herself that the answers she sought were here, somewhere. She had a purpose for coming. Also, Sildane took a crossbow bolt meant for her and she owed it to her friend to face this danger without flinching.

Still, she flinched.

Rayanne Sedai took a deep breath and continued, "Girls come out of this test grievously injured, or do not return from it at all. Other girls who decide to quit in the middle because it hurts them too much are asked to leave the Tower forever, but you alone don't have that choice. You must want more than anything to come through this alive and be trained to become an Aes Sedai."

"Will I die in the test?" Ghedlyn asked. "Is it because I am me?"

"No dear girl," Rayanne Sedai exclaimed sharply, "any girl can be lost in this test. The day Sildane takes it, she might die. Duvella can tell you; like everyone who walks into the Arches, she almost didn't come back. I refused once before I ever got there and I almost died when I did take it. It is a horrible trial, but if you want to know why you alone cannot refuse to take the trial, you... _must_... survive it! Only if you survive can the Tower answer your questions and teach you what you need to know. Survival is in your hands alone!"

Rayanne Sedai hurried her out of the basement cell with its thick door into the dusty, dimly lit corridor with no other advice. Ghedlyn's mind was spinning. She was barefoot and deeply afraid.

"Be sure to come back, Ghedlyn!" Sildane called after them before someone closed the door between them.

A servant showed them on, guiding the way with a single torch flame through the twisting corridors. The blond Aes Sedai adjusted her yellow shawl about her shoulders and walked with her chin held high. Her eyes fluttering, Ghedlyn followed after them, counting each step, remembering each turn. She did her best to keep her feet moving. The floors were cold and the occasional peddle bit into the heels or balls of her feet. Dust clung between her toes. She continued to count just as she always did to record her path through space and time.

At one intersection, the servant stood aside and bowed, "I leave you here, Aes Sedai."

Rayanne Sedai nodded and continued on without a word.

Unlike elsewhere, torches stood lit in these passages at intervals and the woman and girl could both see without aid. If Rayanne Sedai had been radiating her best serenity before, she redoubled her efforts with every step until Ghedlyn hardly recognized her.

Ghedlyn was quaking. Up ahead, she could sense three women channeling. She gripped the hem of her white dress with fingers that refused to unlock.

The final double door opened into a huge domed chamber cut directly into the bedrock of Tar Valon Island. Oil lamps on tall stands stood all around the chamber, their light reflecting off the smooth stone surfaces. An Aes Sedai with a brown-fringed shawl stood beside a plain table upon which sat three large, silver chalices. Ghedlyn immediately began to speculate about purpose and significance of three such containers, spinning out one theory, then another, then another.

In the middle of the great chamber stood an unusual structure that positively hummed with the one power. Ghedlyn could taste the resonance. Three polished silver arches, just tall enough for a woman to walk comfortably beneath, connected to a ring-shaped silver base. Each arch abutted against the next and together transcribed an equilateral triangle upon the ring: she could not see a difference in symmetry between arches themselves, though three Aes Sedai sat cross-legged on the floor at each tip of the triangle channeling intently into the points where the adjoining arches connected to the ring. Under other circumstances, Ghedlyn would have loved to examine the arch structure to determine how _saidar_ flowed through it in such an organized fashion, but she was too frightened to clearly analyze the patterns. She recognized the Arches as a _ter'angreal_ of some sort, though she had never actually seen a _ter'angreal_ before except to hear about them by Rayanne Sedai's description. The middle of the Arches glowed misty and non-distinct, as though leading into another place, not quite here.

Meilyn Sedai, her steel gray hair pulled into a tail that ran down her back, was one of the three Aes Sedai channeling into the _ter'angreal_. Aside for Rayanne Sedai, Meilyn Sedai was the only other woman in the room that Ghedlyn recognized.

"Be strong," Rayanne Sedai whispered to Ghedlyn as they proceeded out into the huge chamber together.

The Aes Sedai in the brown-fringed shawl stepped forward as they approached. She was not the most elegantly dressed woman Ghedlyn had ever seen, but no one could doubt her Aes Sedai authority, "And whom do you bring with you, Sister?"

Rayanne Sedai tipped her nose back proudly. Her voice actually quavered for the first two words, "One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance, Sister."

"Is she ready?"

"She is..." Rayanne swallowed hard, "...is ready to leave behind what she was, and, passing through her fears, gain Acceptance."

"Does she know her fears?"

"She has never faced them, but... goes now without argument."

"Then let her face what she fears," the Aes Sedai with the brown-fringed shawl stepped back and gestured to the nearest Archway.

The blond Aes Sedai guided Ghedlyn to the Arch. Rayanne Sedai turned to regard her, "You must enter as you arrive in this world; forgive me child, you must remove the dress and proceed unclothed."

Shaking to her toes, Ghedlyn experienced a paralysis as if her body were disconnected from her mind. She simply could not bring together the dissimilar pieces of her being. The Arch stood before her, beckoning, waiting, and she could not budge. It was her chance now to be brave. This crossbow bolt was meant for her and for her alone. Time moved like cold honey. The answers she wanted existed beyond this experience. Through an act of pure will, she lifted her arms and fumbled the dress up over her head. The shift was easier, but not significantly. Rayanne Sedai caught each clothing item as she half-unwillingly discarded it.

As Ghedlyn stripped off her clothing, Rayanne Sedai gave a final whispered instruction, "Child, remember not to channel within the Arches. That is one certain way to not return."

Ghedlyn blinked and shakily forced a nod. She faced the Archway trembling, feeling _saidar_ thrumming from the silver gate like a fast river pounding its banks. She sensed the laced flows forced into shape by the structure of the Archway itself, but had no idea at all what the elaborate convolutions of the power were intended to form.

"The first time is for what was," Rayanne Sedai told her, intoning, "The way back will come but once. Be steadfast."

Ignoring her dread, Ghedlyn forced herself into action. She put one dusty foot before the other and told herself that Sildane would be more brave. She wanted to be as brave as Sildane. The glow brightened and expanded, shining out at her and steadily enfolding her.

Light poured upon her, made liquid by its intensity.

Light became everything, the air, the ground, the arch. Illumination swept past her. It draped around her in form and caught at her, brushing, caressing.

Stirred by ocean winds, the gold-dyed silk hangings swept over her face and arms as she stepped through the membrane out onto the sandstone veranda. The gauzy hanging pulled back over her head and dropped away to reveal a sunny Arad Doman day.

She stopped herself, for a moment not remembering where she was. What had been this place?

The sleeveless yellow dress she wore was stitched with elaborate patterns of interlocking triangles and hung to just above her knees, which were dirty and scraped. She lugged a basket heaped with fresh peaches from the orchard.

With a smile, she remembered what she had been doing. "Mama! Look what Papa and I did!"

Mama stood at the edge of the veranda, her hands resting on the casement gorgeously sculpted with interlocking stone forms of lizards and fish. She looked off the veranda down the face of the short cliff which cut right to the churning, crashing waves of the Aryth ocean not too far below. At high tide during a storm, the waves broke high enough that someone standing on the veranda could taste their mist. In a clinging, purple gown, her long, raven hair strung with shining firedrops and pearls, Mama contemplated the rippling blue ocean expanse with onyx black eyes.

She glanced up when she heard Ghedlyn. "My dearest girl!" A gorgeous smile broke onto her smooth, copper-skinned face and she swept across the veranda like the wind and waves and enfolded Ghedlyn in a hug, "I have not seen you since morning."

"Mama!" Ghedlyn giggled as her mother set to tickling her. She tried not to spill peaches from the woven basket, but two bumped off onto the stone veranda anyway.

"Oh, what have we here?" Mama asked. Her hand sliding over Ghedlyn's, her gold rings tickling warmly between them, she caught the handle of the basket and helped share some of the weight from Ghedlyn. "Picking all these must have taken hours!"

"Papa helped," Ghedlyn told her brightly. "The field hands cleaned out most of the trees already, so I had to climb up really high to find these."

"That must have been fun," Mama said, eyes glinting in the sun, "I hope you were careful."

"Ma-maaa," Ghedlyn drawled, "I'm always careful."

"I know you love to climb my dearest girl, but I worry that your Papa, dear as he is, won't reach you in time should you fall."

Ghedlyn gave her a smug look, "But I never fall."

"I remember one time..." Mama reminded her, tickling her. "Now Ghedlyn, would you like to see something very interesting?"

"Um, sure, what is it?" Ghedlyn asked. Mama always seemed to find such incredible, neat things to show her.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

"Come here, come," Mama guided her across the veranda to where she had been standing at the carved casement. She put her hands on the face of a sculpted fish, "Feel it, feel it!"

Ghedlyn readjusted how she was holding the basket to free up one hand and did as instructed. The cut stone of the fish's face was sun-warmed and smooth. On mild winter days, she had leaned her face against these polished stones to feel their heat, had played among them her whole life and had even named each different carved animal. The fish was Esa. Beneath her fingers, the fish seemed to vibrate, as if about to leap off and seek the sea.

"Do you feel it?" Mama asked.

Ghedlyn shook her head, not quite certain what her mother was showing her.

"Right here," Her mother shifted her hand upward slightly.

The vibration actually seemed to tickle when felt right at that spot. The tone was deep and clear, almost like the ocean, but not. "It's singing!" Ghedlyn exclaimed in surprise.

"Sometimes," Mama said, "when there is a storm on the horizon and the level of the ocean waters are just right, the waves move across the rocks at the base of the cliff in just such a way that their sound carries up here. The rocks themselves sing when the ocean caresses them just so."

"How does it do that?" Ghedlyn asked in amazement. She had never thought of such a thing before.

"You must think of the entire cliff face as if it were the string of a harp, but it connects right here to this point in this carved fish, and nowhere else. The ocean is like a tireless musician, ever tuning and plucking the strings. Feel it, feel there. It is only right here!"

She was correct, Ghedlyn realized. Nuzo, the fat lizard carved next to Esa the fish, did not resound at all the way Esa did. She touched other figures nearby, checking each one. Only Esa sounded.

"Does that mean there's a storm coming?" Ghedlyn asked her mother. "The skies are so clear!"

"Such a smart girl" Mama fawned, "There might be a storm. The winds will change if such a thing is coming, and they have not yet." With a smile she helped lift the basket of peaches, "Quick now! Let's take these peaches in and have Eldrith bake them into a pie. If we start now, it might be ready in time for the evening meal!"

"Okay!" Ghedlyn felt excitement. She loved Eldrith's pies, particularly the peach.

The afternoon passed quickly. Ghedlyn helped her mother and Eldrith, the house cook, by moving wood into the ovens or by mixing bowls when either of the two more experienced cooks was otherwise occupied. When nothing remained but to wait for the pie to bake, Ghedlyn bolted from the main house back down the steep, switchbacking stairway between the main house and the sea-side guest cottage. Twitching his mustache and fingering the ruby stud he wore in one ear, Papa instructed servants to bringing chairs and tables up the path from the cottage down low by the cliff, nearest the ocean. Ghedlyn went back through the low cottage to the veranda and felt that spot on Esa the fish: the stone was still singing!

"If there is a sea storm," Papa said to her, "best we move the valuables up to the main house."

Ghedlyn helped out by dragging a chair up the stairway, but most of the other contents had been moved by the time she pulled it to the top and rested herself well enough to make another trip.

Late in the afternoon, she picked a spot in the sun on the stone veranda and spread out her wooden blocks. She was going to build a tower; not just any tower, but the Tower of towers that stood in Tar Valon. Ghedlyn liked hearing stories of the White Tower when Mama or Papa would tell them. Papa had been to Tar Valon many times on his trading expeditions and the Tower always seemed to grow taller every time he told stories about it. She started off attempting to stack the painted cubes as high as she could, but they kept falling over and scattering across the stone before she built them too high. The surface of the veranda made it difficult to stack since the stones, while mostly level, met at slight variations between one another. Every so often, she would creep back over to the casement to check the fish.

It was still humming!

The sun had nearly dropped down to a bank of clouds that lay upon the horizon lip when Mama came to find her. She sauntered down the stairs in a wrap of silk over her purple dress, her necklaces making faint chiming sounds as she moved, "Ah, here you are! Stacking blocks I see. Which tower is it this time, the topless towers of Cairhein? Is it the Stone in Tear? Maybe it's another tower."

"The White Tower!" Ghedlyn proudly declared.

"I didn't know the White Tower came in so many different colors," Mama joked, pointing to the red and green blocks that interrupted any continuity of hue.

"I sort of ran out of white," Ghedlyn complained.

"Not an easy feat, stacking them so high on this surface. You might have better luck in the servant's hall in the main house," Mama suggested. Her onyx eyes sparkled with a quiet pride.

"I wanted to stay down here," Ghedlyn told her, "Esa is still singing!"

"She is?" Mama asked. Her gaze tracked to the horizon and a faint shadow passed over her features.

"Esa's a 'he,' Mama," Ghedlyn corrected her.

"Of course, my dearest child," Mama replied. She smiled, "The sun seems about the right declination... would you like to see something else interesting?"

"What Mama?" Ghedlyn asked, wondering if any of the other stones in the veranda sang.

Mama nodded, her long silken black hair spilling over her shoulder as she crouched down to gaze at Ghedlyn's handiwork. "That's quite the Tower you have," she said, "But, to be a proper tribute to the Amyrlin Seat, you need a finishing touch." She slipped a ring off her finger and held it for Ghedlyn to see. The circlet of gold contained a huge clear-blue waterdrop gem. She turned the huge jewel point up and carefully set it at the pinnacle of Ghedlyn's Tower. She adjusted the angle of the ring until it gleamed in the low angle of the sunlight. Then, she pointed to the shadow of Ghedlyn's Tower, "A worthy tribute! May the Light illumine the Aes Sedai!"

"Wow!" Ghedlyn gaped.

The shadow of the block tower was a normal, slender finger of darkness up to the gemstone cap. Where the shadow of the gem should have fallen was instead a bright burst of focused blue light that looked as though a star lodged within the strip of darkness.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

Mama explained how gemstones were cut to focus light and showed Ghedlyn the way the bright blue spot would move when the stone was shifted. Eldrith came down the steps to find them not long after and let them know that dinner was ready. Mama took Ghedlyn's hand and together they climbed back to the main house. The sun dipped behind the bank of clouds before they quite reached the top of the stairs.

Eldrith had outdone herself with the evening meal: Scallops and Tune with tasty sauce. Ghedlyn relished the cheese.

A low patter of rain sounded on the tile roof of the main house by the time Eldrith willingly brought out the peach pie they had slaved over for the majority of the afternoon. Mama smiled through most of the meal, chatting happily with Papa and teasing Ghedlyn, but her onyx eyes would sometimes flick toward the western windows that showed a view of the Aryth Ocean. A gentle wind stirred the expensive tapestries and silken hangings at open doorways, which servants soon set about closing. Eldrith and several other servants soon started lighting oil lanterns.

"The storm looks like it may be large this time," Mama commented to Papa as Ghedlyn started into her second piece of pie. "I hope you had servants tying down the storehouses."

"All been done, my love," Papa said, fingering the ruby stud in his ear. "We even moved the furniture up from the lower cottage."

"I helped!" Ghedlyn piped up.

"That you did," Papa laughed.

Mama nodded, "A fair precaution."

"Will the storm get bad, Mama?" Ghedlyn asked.

"A few storms here can raise the sea in ways other storms do not." Mama said, "The lower house is not so safe under such conditions."

Ghedlyn stopped in sudden recollection, "Oh no! We left your ring down there. My blocks are there." She slipped out of her chair.

"Not to worry, Ghedlyn, I can send someone down to fetch them," Papa said.

"Ghedlyn..." Mama began.

"No, I can get them! I left them," Ghedlyn called, racing for the door that led to the downward stairs. She pushed through the silk hanging in a hurry and fumbled with the latches on the newly closed door.

The sky had transformed to dark gray, nearly black and Ghedlyn ran headlong into a face full of rain. Her yellow dress was soaked through almost immediately in the deluge. She had not expected the wet to be this wet. Careful to find the handrails along the switchback stairs, she quickly skipped down the carved stone steps toward the cottage far below. As she descended, the wind steadily began to strengthen until it nearly flattened her against the hillside. Ghedlyn had never known wind so strong. A white-purple bolt of lightning cracked down through the rain shower to cast eerie shadows and the thunder boom echoed in refrain off the ocean cliffs.

The lower cottage was dark when she reached it, the windows closed and oil lamps unlit at the sides of the entry. She shivered with wet, cold and a new dread as she raced through the strangely empty building toward the veranda.

Colored blocks were scattered in trembling pools of water. Ghedlyn set about collecting blocks into the bag she used to carry them around. The ring was nowhere to be seen. "Oh no!" Ghedlyn moaned. She had to find her mother's gem. Dropping to her knees, she quickly began to search the wet, reflective surface of the veranda in the near darkness for some sign of the circlet with the blue gem. Lightning cracked down again much closer and the wind picked up such a spray of flying water that Ghedlyn had to squint to see right in front of her.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

Mama appeared, her purple dress soaked flat against the curves of her form, "Ghedlyn, come now...!" she said something else, but Ghedlyn could not hear her over the bellow of the wind.

"No Mama," Ghedlyn cried back, "your ring is lost! I have to find your ring!"

"Forget it Ghedlyn!" Mama caught her beneath the arm and dragged her to her feet, ignoring the sack of blocks that sat nearby. "We have to get back to the main house!"

"My blocks!"

"Forget them!"

Against the steadily mounting fury of wind, Mama dragged Ghedlyn back through the cottage and up the stairs. A stream of water sluiced down the steps at them, slowing them and making their footing treacherous. Mama pulled her upward --even when Ghedlyn slipped and fell-- with a fierce determination. Ghedlyn was sobbing with fright before they even made it to the first switchback.

"Do not be afraid!" Mama instructed, "Keep going, no matter what!"

Ghedlyn glanced back once toward the low cottage. Lightning in the skies backlit falling water. Jagged branches dancing the sky revealed a mountain where no mountain could possibly be: out in the Aryth ocean.

Her eyes widened with horror.

The cliff of water speeding toward them out of the depthless gloom stood higher than the roof of the low cottage.

"Mama!" she shrieked in fright.

Mama's head slowly turned.

The tremendous swell of water crashed right over the cottage in a sheet of spray and foam and leapt up the cliff at them like a hateful living thing. The wall slammed hard into them and ripped them off their feet and sent them spinning. Mama's body cushioned her as they smashed together hard against the rocky face of the hill. The flood of water tumbled them entangled with Ghedlyn screaming and blowing fluid from her nose. Pieces of wood smacked into them and caught at them.

Her fingers claw uselessly for any purchase, Mama was pulled inevitably away from Ghedlyn.

The receding wave dragged them both back down through the wreckage of the cottage and across the veranda where the decorative casement had been utterly destroyed. Gasping and sputtering, Ghedlyn found herself lying on her back staring upward into the lightning reaved sky. Rain hit her in the eyes and mouth. She felt so dizzy and disoriented. Where was Mama? Swinging her head back and forth, she could not see Mama.

Rolling over and struggling desperately to put her shaky legs back beneath her, she screamed, "MAMA!"

"...Ghedlyn...!" a tiny voice reached her.

Ghedlyn looked around.

Lit by the lightning flashes from above, she saw eight fingers clamped white over the broken edge of the casement.

"MAMA!" she staggered to the edge.

Dangling in space above the reeling swells and crawling surges of foam, Mama looked back up at her with a strangely peaceful expression on her badly cut face. Her necklaces had been stripped away and her gown was flayed to threads. A set of huge gashes leaked blood down her back. Those onyx eyes were wide, but fearless.

"Mama," Ghedlyn stooped at the edge and caught her mother's wrists in her childish fingers. "I can pull you up!"

"Thank you, my dearest girl."

A glowing silver Arch stood at the other end of the wrecked veranda. Its light seemed strangely still next to the violence of the tempest.

_The Way out!_

"Mama, hold on!" Ghedlyn begged. She heaved back hard trying to affect the woman dangling below. The wetness made her grip slide easily and the blood seeping from her mother's fingers foiled her efforts.

"I love you my dearest girl," Mama murmured in a weak voice.

"Help me Mama, I can pull you up! Help me!" Ghedlyn cried at her.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

She saw the scene before her from outside herself.

A new mountain of water raced toward them from across the liquid void, emptying the rocks at the bottom of the cliff as the ocean took its next deep breath before swinging to pound them flat. Mama looked so sad. A proud smile touched her lips.

The way will come once and only once.

The choice is now or never again.

"MAMA!" Ghedlyn screamed.

She sprang to her feet and ran hurting, bleeding and crying away from where her mother dangled in space. The blasting wind caught at her and tried to bear her back, but she ran anyway. The Arch seemed so close yet so impossibly far away.

"Ghedlyn...?" Mama asked questioningly, her voice lost behind the raking torrents of the gale.

Ghedlyn fell face first and skidded naked into the light. "MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!" she screamed over and over, her voice echoing.

The wind was gone.

The rain was gone.

The injuries on her arms and legs, and the remains of her yellow dress were gone.

An Aes Sedai in a brown-fringed shawl stood over her. The woman stooped down to help Ghedlyn to her feet.

"Mama..." Ghedlyn whined. She was unable to stop her knees from knocking. Tears leaked down her face despite her newly found draconian control. The entire experience rang absolutely crystal clear in her mind as if she were still standing on the veranda--this time through had been very different from what actually happened, but not different enough to put lie to the memory. "Mama..." she wept.

Retrieving one of the silver chalices from the table, the Brown sister raised it over Ghedlyn's head. The woman poured a stream of cool clear water over her, allowing it to run in rivulets freely down her body into a lapping pool at their feet on the floor, "You are washed clean of what sin you may have done and of those done against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us washed clean and pure, in mind and soul."

Looking shaken, Rayanne Sedai touched Ghedlyn's arm, "Returning once is something not all girls do. But, you must return twice more as well. Are you prepared to continue?"

"Aes Sedai, yes, Aes Sedai," Ghedlyn chirped, hiccupping on the last word. Tears mingled with the wetness on her face, but she said the words anyway, "Ready I am I ready. Ready ready. To continue ready."

She feared that if she did not go now, she would lose her nerve and not be able to do it again. What would happen if she refused when she was not allowed? Would they toss her bodily into the next Arch? She was so afraid and wanted badly to be brave.


	54. The Second Arch

**Youngest Channeler: The Second Arch**

by viggen

Shivering and wet, Ghedlyn followed Rayanne Sedai around the _ter'angreal_ to the next arch. She was so frightened she could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. She did not want to walk into the arch again, but she wanted badly to measure up. She wanted to be as brave as Sildane. She struggled to remember the crossbow bolt and the pain on her friend's face, but kept flashing to the image of her mother dangling over churning waters. What would the second archway hold? Not one of the thousand possibilities appealed to her in the slightest.

Rayanne Sedai's ice blue eyes clenched slightly in concern, but she stood tall and her voice was clear and controlled, "You must be ready to go on, child. You alone cannot turn away. Have strength and prepare yourself."

Though unable to meet her mentor's eyes, Ghedlyn managed a faint nod.

"It is time then," the golden blonde Aes Sedai declared. She gestured to the silver arch beyond which lay indiscernible mist, "The second time is for what is. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast."

Ghedlyn bit her lip. Her knees knocked so sharply that they threatened to buckle. Her arms and legs refused to budge. She did not want to discover what lay across that forbidding threshold within that gateway which led nowhere good.

Sildane would go on, she knew.

"Child," Rayanne Sedai said to her quietly, "if you do not enter, you will be made to enter. I know you will not be happy with that."

The prospect frightened Ghedlyn all the more. Failing in such fashion would be a humiliation. She heaved a stolid breath and commanded her legs into gear. The ensuing rebellion of body against will almost emerged as physical sickness. She did not want to go on, but she could not afford to fail. No matter her fear. No matter that she did not like what inevitably lay ahead.

"One!" she croaked, "Two!" She dredged out the steps from a body that refused to cooperate, counting each time one of her feet rose and fell as a source of comfort. She crossed the cool stone floor in six paces and stepped through into the cloudy abyss beneath the thrumming silver curve.

She continued to walk, "Eight! Nine! Ten!" Roused to motion, she stepped and stepped ever forward. The veil did not part. Mists without scent or substance swirled past her feet and legs, hardly detectible, barely tangible. Gray stretched away in all directions and gave no sign of pattern or structure. She stumbled once in the miasma, tripping over herself rather than any concrete obstruction. Her jitters made standing upright a chore.

"Fifty seven, fifty eight..." Ghedlyn continued on what seemed like a straight path, though she had no reference point from which to measure. She walked in the silence and wondered that the surface supporting her did not have a texture or a temperature. As always, she counted the number of steps she took even though the start now seemed hazy. She counted aloud until her voice weakened to nearly a whisper. She had no idea where she was headed.

Absolutely nothing happened.

She continued to walk. And walk. And walk.

Still, nothing happened.

How could that be possible? Something happened right away the last arch she entered. What if she had gotten lost and was at risk of never reaching the test? If she never got to the test, how could she escape after? What if the silver arch appeared and disappeared before she reached it?

Her alarm rising, Ghedlyn stopped and stood. No images of her past materialized to assault her, but her fear mounted. There was no up or down, no left or right, only a naked, wet, black-haired little girl who could see and hear nothing but an infinite stretch of gray.

She stooped down to touch the ground and reached and reached and reached. There was nothing to touch, as if her feet were standing on an absence. She reached through nothing, into nothing and contacted nothing. How could that be?

She tried to sit down and fell literally until she was standing up again. And she was simply standing. When she tried to jump upward, the gray abyss shifted so that she by default came back to standing. When she attempted to fling herself flat onto her stomach, belly-flopping forward in a spread eagle, she found herself upright. The axiom made no sense: from a standing position, there needed to be some coordinate for up and down, yet there were none that remained constant.

Ghedlyn took a deep calming breath. This was not correct, totally not correct! Without any means of marking either position or orientation, she did not know what direction she was headed nor how far she traveled. She had never before been so lost that she could not even determine the orientation of her body. She wanted to sit down to ponder, but knew she would only find herself standing upright again if she tried.

Randomly picking a direction, she started walking. She immediately collided with a surface. The uniform gray mist coalesced momentarily as a solid wall that she crashed into face first. Her balance upset, she stumbled and fell over backward until she found herself standing again. When she stretched out with one hand, she found no surface anywhere within reach. Nothing there. A pane of glass could never be so perfectly clear.

It was wrong! She wanted to cry out and scream, register her frustration with whatever power made this place incorrect. If only there were an agency to which she could appeal, but she was completely alone. Breathing hard, Ghedlyn forced herself to calm. She could remember many screaming fits when something turned wrong, but this would not be one of them. Had a screaming fit ever altered the contents of reality? She wanted to survive and make Rayanne Sedai and Sildane and Papa and everyone else proud. She could choose when to be offended or hurt.

When she started walking, she again crashed head long into a barrier that prohibited forward progress. Ghedlyn shrieked and swung a fist at the surface, only to find nothingness. Sputtering for breath, she took several slow steps forward with her arms outstretched. Why had something blocked her just then but not when she looked for it before? What incurred this?

She carefully took a few more steps, searching for the obstruction which twice barred her path. She had not actually wanted to go that direction, had she? She did not understand. She wanted to find the silver arch and get on to the next part of this horrible test, but what if this selective barrier blocked her from finding it? She continued forward and found no signs of the obstruction.

She turned a quarter turn and, with arms outstretched, walked directly ahead. Nothing blocked her way. Satisfied that she could continue --at least for the moment-- she walked straight on with her arms projected in front of her. However large this place was, the way out needed to exist somewhere.

Ghedlyn walked and walked and walked. Eventually, her arms grew heavy and she needed to let them hang at her sides. The endless gray did not ever change, no matter that she counted ten thousand two hundred and thirty one steps. The measurement lacked any meaning except as a source of comfort, though the comfort grew rarified as the number of steps continued to increase. Several times, she lost control and sought _saidar_ before she could stop herself. Rayanne Sedai told her not channel within the arch, but she found that the power seemed dampened to the point that it barely reached her as a trickle even when she did accidentally embrace it. She would not have the strength to stir a hair with the power in this place and the heightened sensory while embracing _saidar_ did not feel any different from not embracing it.

When she reached twenty nine thousand six hundred and eighty nine paces, she finally collapsed. Her quivering muscles simply would not carry her farther. She fell off her feet and found herself returned to a standing position thirty one times before she recovered enough to continue standing, though she could not stop wobbling. If only sitting down were possible. She wanted to take a break so badly. She tried to rest standing up, but her knees quaked incessantly.

Unable to halt herself, Ghedlyn stumbled forward and collided with a solid surface. She fell over at a complete loss for orientation and landed with a grunt on her back.

She found herself resting on a firm plane that lacked either temperature or texture and stared upward at she knew not what. Was it up? Maybe she was lying on a wall or on a ceiling looking downward. She did not know and for once could not summon energy to care. The gray infinity seemed invariant. Why now? What made now different from when she kept falling over when her legs stopped working? The only possible conclusion was an internal one: _I am different somehow_.

Then she realized: that final step she took before the collision with the wall was one of the few she left uncounted.

The possibility frightened her. The other times she collided with something, she had been in a pause between counting. Uncounted steps were the reason. It meant either that she could proceed only if she were counting or that this strange space lacked any features if she tried to measure them.

But why was she lying down now? She had been unable to even sit before. If this place responded to whether she was counting steps or not, maybe she did something similar every time she tried to sit or lay down. Her restless mind postulated a dozen different models to account for the bizarre observations, but she was simply too exhausted figure it out.

Up and down mapped to up and down only when up and down could be discriminated from right and left or forward and backward and only then when... if...

Coordinates for a geometric space often need a topologic space to be mapped upon and stationary states could pick minimum and maximum type paths.

Only min and max against a field with imaginary coordinates...

Ghedlyn startled, "Wah!"

She had been asleep.

An electric charge of fear leaped through her. She had no way of knowing how long she slept. Her arms and legs flailed when suddenly she was no longer lying down, but not standing up either. For a dizzying moment, she felt as if she were falling off a cliff with nothing below to catch her.

The gray remained perfectly unchanged and she was standing exactly as before on her own two feet.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

Swaying, Ghedlyn was forced to take a long moment to find her bearings. She fell over once, crashed against an invisible ground and then spontaneously returned to standing. Surprised to smash into a surface when she fell now, she managed to keep on her feet instead of falling over a second time. The muscles in her legs felt as if she had walked on them for years without rest and the wool stuffed in her brain suggested she had been dozing for a very long time.

Why had she hit the ground when she fell this time? It had to be internal, she knew. No other possibility made sense. Either she had not been anticipating hitting anything when she fell this once, or she had been too dazed from waking up to understand her own physical state.

That was the key! It had to be!

The act of counting was a form of modeling, as was the act of expecting to hit the ground when falling or sitting down. Features in this world existed only as long as she did not try to understand how they existed or the nature of their form. Maybe that was why she always came back to standing position: she never anticipated standing up because she took it completely for granted and therefore did not try to model or predict it.

She breathed in and out deeply several times to help prepare for the obvious trial. In order to get anywhere in this... space... she needed to clear her mind of any intent to do anything. Plotting, planning, predicting and anticipating would get her nowhere here at all!

She visualized herself as a pool of water and every dancing unresolved thought as a pattern of ripples spreading across the surface. Rayanne Sedai's training with visualizations helped somewhat. She smoothed the pool, silenced the rote drills and pattern preoccupations and forcibly made herself think of nothing but an unbroken plane of water. After several false starts, once she finally managed to become completely blank, she dared to put one foot in front of the other with no direction or path in mind. She squinted to see only the gray infinity and forced herself not to place any patterns upon it. Gray mist could be perfectly acceptable as a featureless nothing in and of itself, without need of any underlying design.

Her slowly extended foot bumped a toe into the smooth intersection between a textureless wall and floor. Holding nothing firmly in mind, Ghedlyn allowed her foot to trace along the invisible barrier. If she went slowly enough, the obstruction guided her progress: she did not know where this path would lead and stubbornly refused to care.

Mind a smooth pond, Ghedlyn went and nothing more.

As she traced the obstruction, step by step, she soon found she could rest her shoulder and arm against the featureless surface while she walked. She did not see it as anything but more dimensionless gray, but she could at least follow it. When she began to anticipate the next stride, the surface would become ephemeral, as if prepared to vanish at the first sign of a measurement.

She proceeded for a long while, sliding her foot along the intersection between the invisible horizontal and vertical faces. She wanted badly to count the steps, but could not. She wished for anything to break her boredom, but understood what would happen if she began to count. She went on and on. Her legs stiffened from effort and her muscles knotted into intractable bunches. Worse, her hollow stomach began to gurgle and her mouth turned dry; she had not eaten or drank in what now seemed like days. She needed sustenance soon, or she would be at risk of never escaping the test. She endured for as long as possible. When she could go no farther, she collapsed bonelessly and lay panting, wrapped around her empty middle.

"Sildane..." she wept, "Papa..."

Ghedlyn cried herself to sleep and experienced an eternity of horrible dreams walking without end across an expanse of true nothing. The sensations of _saidar_ floated into and out of her, though the one power seemed a dampened, distant, useless trickle.

She awoke gradually to a groggy mind. The world was the same gray infinity of formless mist. Her stomach gnawed inward on itself. She lay naked on her back staring up, wishing Sildane or Papa would suddenly appear to hug her and tell her everything was all right. She could hardly stand being so completely alone. For a long time now, she understood that to be alone meant to risk dying, but she had been given no choice here. She would tolerate Alibet taunting her if only to fill the vast nothingness. The goal of escape lagged where she did not know if she could ever reach it. She shied from resuming her journey out of pure dread, pain and loneliness.

The sound of something skittering, tiny feet on tile, reached her ear.

Ghedlyn held her breath. She was uncertain she had actually heard a sound. Was it in her own strained, breaking mind, or was it in this enormous empty world from which she was unable to leave? She could not tell. The noise was gone.

"I am alone, am I," she croaked, mostly to hear a voice after so long in silence. The noise had to be locked inside her skull.

With a numb worry, she creaked to her feet. The depth of her exhaustion and hunger and thirst excluded most of her higher reasoning--she no longer needed to struggle to blank her mind, it stayed blank all by itself. She found the invisible wall surface and began to shuffle along it again. The only thing she knew was that if she did not continue to move, this nightmare would never end.

Her feet shuffled dully forward with one following the other in an infinite progression. She knew that the soles of her feet hurt. And her knees. Her knees hurt too. Her hip. And her stomach. The wall surface remained a constant, invisible nothing. The thought crossed her mind that maybe she had followed the wall the wrong direction, but she didn't really care. She had no idea how long it had been since she resumed her lonely trudge.

The mist ahead stirred and a shadow passed through it.

Ghedlyn paused. She teetered with her hand resting against the wall, her mind processing what she thought she had just seen. The fog actually seemed to swirl, as though something large had passed through it ahead of her.

When she glanced around, she discovered that this world was no longer just a slate of gray in every direction. Behind her seemed darker while ahead seemed brighter, though the slight variation could easily have been her own imagination.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

She did her best to continue moving. Minutes stretched out to a painful width and became hours. Or, hours did not swap for one another, leaving time to stand perfectly still, as if Ghedlyn had never actually lifted a foot in the first place. She felt as though she were stuck in the middle of one action and could not distinguish one repetition from the next.

Strange sounds sometimes came through the gray mist. Sometimes she thought she heard breathing, or toe nails tapping on tile. Sometimes clattering or sliding of something rough over something smooth. She could never quite disentangle the noises from the wandering of her imagination. She did not know if she were producing the weird array of aural sensations or if she were not as alone as she thought.

A faint breath of mercurial wind licked frigidly across her skin. It surprised her to realize she remained wet, even after a small infinity of walking. She had not felt wind in the gray mist before.

When she glanced up, a glimmer of light shined through the gray nothingness.

"Arch!" she murmured. It had to be the way out!

With the sudden hope that maybe the end was in sight, her pace quickened. She worried that if she wanted to go to the light too badly that maybe it would vanish into the mire, but she could not take the chance that her one hope of escape might be lost if she hesitated too long.

The shimmering glow twinkled and shifted, but did not evaporate. It came noticeably closer.

"The arch, the arch," Ghedlyn repeated to herself over and over. She hurried as quickly as her numb body would allow. It had to be the arch.

Gray mist began slightly to lift, stirred by gusts of wind almost too light to be felt. Eddies and smoky curls wafted around her.

A scaled and furry paw with silver claws the size of boulders planted itself right in her path.

The black haired girl shrieked and dove aside as a second paw slammed down right where she had been the split moment before. The mist was too thick to see where the thing was, except that paws kept crashing down out of nowhere and forms like the coils of an enormous serpent whipped about in fleeting shadows.

With a charge of nerves boosting her leaden muscles into twitching pandemonium, she ran tripping and scrabbling as fast as she possibly could. Her only hope was the light. Her initial scream had left her delicate throat painfully raw. The invisible surface stopped being flat, but became instead a series of jagged, fractured ripples like waves made of glass. She tripped and fell and slid, managed to dodge past a paw that smacked down right in her path, though the light seemed no closer behind the clot of meandering gray mists. The glass edges cut into her palms and feet when she fell, leaving her slick with fresh blood. A hundred merged forms chased her over jagged waste that she could not see or understand.

She remembered running recently, running for her life against she knew not what. This felt no different. She was running again for no reason that she fully understood through a maze she could not even see. She was too afraid to cry or scream. The gray reality spiraled with her exhaustion, as if up and down were debating a cruel transversion.

Something nipped painfully into her shoulder, prodding her to run all the harder.

The ground dropped out and she fell over an edge she could never have anticipated. Ghedlyn grunted when she dropped naked onto a grating surface and slid down an incline. She could see walls of gray that coruscated as though constructed of the mist. She slid down a smooth slope covered with curved serrations. Hundreds of feet clawed with huge silver hooks hidden mostly by gray mist paced in enormous shadows along the cliff lip down which she had fallen, their eyes seeking Ghedlyn out and watching her slide away.

She finally skidded to a stop at the floor of what seemed like an enormous valley made up of glass. Shadows crept over the valley rim and steadily began to descend in a waterfall of mist. If she did not move soon, she would be caught!

The silver arch stood on an incline so near that Ghedlyn wanted to cry with joy.

Though every muscle in her body protested against use, she dragged herself to her feet and forced herself to move. The way back would come but once and if she missed it now, she was lost.

A hunkering shadow languorously stretched itself and stood behind the arch.

"No!" Ghedlyn bleated hoarsely, drawn short on her dash toward the gateway.

The misty thing had no eyes or mouth or face, but it leered at her and crouched, daring her to come on to where it could catch her.

If she missed the arch, she would never get out! Ghedlyn dashed onward toward the light. Sildane and Rayanne Sedai and Papa were all out there somewhere. She had to get through the arch!

The giant thing with silver claws like sharpened boulders leaped over the archway in a graceful, purposeful curve. Ghedlyn ran straight in, eyes closed, not wanting to see it. She felt fur and scales brush past, the biting tip of a blade so near to her back, but ran with no intention of ever stopping, even if she was running straight down a toothy gullet.

She ran with everything she had, throat too hoarse to support the wail she wanted to emit. The claws came so close, the teeth!

_Saidar_ sprang into her in a clean, pure surge of strength. She filled herself to the limit and struggled against a weary mind to decide what weave to create first. She had never before thought to use the one power like a knife...

"Shield her!" someone cried, "She's going to channel! Shield her!"

Arms wrapped around her even though she still tried to run. She was borne flat to a floor of cold stone. She struggled to scream and fought with everything she had left. She fumbled and could not quite seem to wrap her mind around the appropriate flows of power.

"By the Creator! The blood! Hold her still. Shield her before she does something destructive!"

"Ghedlyn, calm yourself!" a familiar voice yelled in her ear, "You made it out. You made it through! No one here will harm you!"

Rayanne Sedai? Was she imagining even that? She shrugged away the annoying loops of power somebody kept trying to tie onto her.

"I do be unable to cut her off!" another woman said. "Meilyn, we may need your hands..."

"She will control it! Calm, Ghedlyn, calm!" arms wrapped around her body tightened to the point where Ghedlyn could barely breathe. "Release the power, release the power."

Ghedlyn could see Rayanne Sedai's face through a sheen of tears. "Aes Sedai...?" she whimpered hoarsely.

"Release the power," Rayanne Sedai hugged her tightly, rocking with Ghedlyn contained in the protection of her lap. Claws and teeth remained so close. Was this all an illusion? Was this something in her mind that she wanted to see? She did not know whether her hopes were becoming as tangible as everything else. Rayanne Sedai's warm arms seemed too warm, too real. If she did not decide what to weave right now, those huge claws would rip through her. She felt so tired of running away and she did not even know if she should not still be running.

This could not be real, could it? Maybe she died already.

"Calm, Ghedlyn, calm," Rayanne Sedai whispered. Her golden braid draped over Ghedlyn's naked shoulder, soaking up bright red blood. A color other than mist gray seemed unreal.

The gray stone dome reached up high over their heads. The Arches stood humming nearby, fueled by the three Aes Sedai sitting cross-legged around the _ter'angreal_. Rayanne Sedai held Ghedlyn close and rocked gently. This was no illusion.

Breathing hard, Ghedlyn allowed herself to gradually relax.

"Please Ghedlyn, release the power," Rayanne Sedai said again in her ear, more quietly as Ghedlyn began to calm.

"These cuts do be deep," the other Aes Sedai had crouched down to examine Ghedlyn, "but they do no be critical. A small Healing and she do be ready to go on. Stand her so that we may continue the ritual."

Rayanne Sedai nodded. "Come on Ghedlyn, we cannot sit here the length of the day. Please release the power."

Ghedlyn's legs remained inert. Her body refused to go any further. Her muscles shivered impotently. The power slipped away as if she had never touched it before. She could not move.

"Thank you Ghedlyn. You are safe now, but we must go on," Rayanne patted her head and stroked her back, her fingers avoiding those deep cuts.

The Aes Sedai needed to drag Ghedlyn to her feet. Her legs shook so badly that she could not put weight on them. She did not remember ever feeling so exhausted at any point in her life.

The yellow sister kept the small girl standing while the brown sister brought the silver chalice from the table, "You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul."

When the brown sister poured the sparkling water over her head, Ghedlyn found her eyes fixed down on the floor at her feet, watching the whirls of blood in the shining pool that built around her feet. Her own blood: she could barely feel the injuries from which it spilled.


	55. The Third Arch

**Youngest Channeler: The Third Arch**

by viggen

"The third time is for what will be. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast."

She heard the words spoken through ears detached from her person. The Healing had been a splash of ice that seared through a layer of agony and departed on a wave of exhaustion. The Aes Sedai talked amongst themselves for a time in voices Ghedlyn could have easily intercepted if she were so inclined. But, standing somehow beside herself, she remembered only the deep, unending loneliness of that place from moments ago. The world of gray mist remained all around her, even though she stood in reality before the next silver archway. Had she been walking for an eon? Had the Wheel turned clear around during her time within?

"You must go in again," she was told. Ghedlyn barely registered the statement. She did not recognize who had spoken. "You alone cannot turn away."

The meaning did not reach her. She tottered listlessly. She felt like a husk of a person, barely afoot and devoid of conscious thought. Every muscle ached. The threads of her existence felt like a tattered cloak worn down by an eternity of rain and wind.

She gave an inhaled gasp when someone at her back suddenly pushed her forward. She was marched across the cold rock floor and bodily shoved beneath the silver arch. She thought someone behind her made a strangled sound, but she could not be certain. Maybe the truncated wheeze had been her own. She stumbled into the glowing gray mist and stretched herself out to embrace it in anticipation. That last walk had been so very long. Would things with pointed teeth be waiting to surround her once again? She consigned herself to it.

She blinked.

What had she been doing?

Stunted pine trees capped with wreaths of snow hung heavily in lazy morning light. She, Sildane and Tavis had packed out of camp early ahead of the other Aes Sedai and their many warders; Ghedlyn had made the excuse of wanting inspect some huge, flowing icicles that cascaded down a mountain cliff not far to the north. Most sisters willingly forgave her eccentricity, though Sildane had this once conceived their excuse. She and her friend certainly intended to inspect the ice formation, but that leg of the journey would only last a few minutes. The two women had agreed the night before to steal a march on their sisters. There would be great risk meeting him without a full circle of thirteen, but they could ill afford to miss the chance.

A puff of fog rising with her breath, Ghedlyn pulled her white ermine cloak more tightly closed. New snow sucked every sound down into a chilling, funereal silence. The gift of her small size allowed Ghedlyn to walk easily upon the older crust hidden just beneath the powdered surface. The dead-still morning mist would be perfectly quiet except for the crunch of their horse's hooves. Tavis sometimes clucked to the three mounts he lead in their wake and Sildane once gave a sneeze.

"It was this way," Sildane pointed, raising her hand in the finely tailored crimson traveling cloak. The brassy ringlets of her hair fell midway down her back and framed her slender, gorgeous, not-yet-ageless face. She had insisted on wearing her red-fringed shawl as the badge of her honor for this task.

Ghedlyn went as her friend directed. They would reach the ice flow quickly and then strike off to the west. She knew well that the other Aes Sedai would guess their purpose when they two failed to return. Her own and Sildane's inclusion on this expedition was the same reason they were attempting to steal this march. Given the woman's intelligence, Ghedlyn did not doubt that Korene was anticipating this sort of move and probably had already rousted the camp the instant Sildane showed interest in taking off alone. The other Aes Sedai certainly did not blame Sildane, though no one went on this sort of mission without substantial help. Ghedlyn knew they would have to move quickly if they wanted to keep ahead of the following party.

"We could see it up there when we came down that cut the other night and set up camp," Sildane mentioned. They had not spoken during their preparations to leave in order to avoid waking up too many of the others, but with the camp safely behind them, Sildane relaxed enough to begin some of small talk.

Ghedlyn knew her friend was nervous, though anyone unfamiliar with Sildane would not have seen it through the carefully honed exterior. The open-faced girl from their shared childhood now hid behind years of Tower training. When Sildane spoke, Ghedlyn nodded thoughtfully. The nod of was both sympathetic and not; Ghedlyn never did understand what her dear friend was thinking, but could catch signs of the other woman's distress. Despite years of growing and changing, Ghedlyn had long since concluded that she would never understand what a normal person felt or thought.

The iceflow appeared through a gap in the trees and Ghedlyn paused walking, her jaw gone lax. In the corner of her mind, she felt Tavis grow tense: her warder had come to know that his Aes Sedai's greatest moments of vulnerability appeared when she confronted dazzling forms of nature. She could lose herself forever in such patterns. The frozen falls of ice hung over snow crusted rocks like a moment held fixed in time and about to crash down.

"It's beautiful," Sildane came up beside her and marveled.

"Beautiful, beautiful," Ghedlyn agreed, beginning to calculate how stationary descent paths evolved as water piled up in the ice blockage and changed the topology of the flow. She would have loved to examine the falls for a month, even knowing the ice would eventually melt before she learned everything she might hope.

"It would be nice if we could stay," Sildane adjusted a firedrop encrusted hairpin then gazed off along the escarpment to the west, off into the trees.

"You would go. We cannot stay," Ghedlyn offered, knowing what Sildane had in mind. "The others will be behind us soon."

"Are we right doing this, Ghed?" Sildane asked.

Ghedlyn looked at her friend, following the other woman's gaze to the west. He waited somewhere nearby unaware of the Aes Sedai camped under his nose. The careful hunt brought fourteen sisters into striking distance without his even realizing it. A few women arrived at a time and then gathered together once they knew for certain where their target would be. Whatever became of Ghedlyn and Sildane now, a circle of twelve other Aes Sedai would more than likely end it today. How far? An hour's ride? Two hours' ride? "We must go."

His kindly, round face alert, Tavis brought their horses up. "Aes Sedai," Ghedlyn's warder seemed ungainly with his excess girth. In fact, he seemed like anything but a warder. The only weapon he usually carried was a hunting knife the length of a hand or a short bow good for killing game. His dumpy, clumsy outward form belied his other qualities. Given that Ghedlyn rarely wore her shawl or traveled with typical Aes Sedai extravagance, low-key Tavis had been the ideal choice for a warder.

With a wistful look back at the ice-locked falls, Ghedlyn nodded thanks to her warder and allowed him to help her swing into the saddle of her gray splotched mount Legendre. She would never be graceful astride, but she had improved enough to at least appear dignified.

In the saddle of her brown mare, Kestrel, Sildane lead off silently.

Briefly holding her breath to keep her balance when Legendre kicked into motion against the snow, Ghedlyn followed her friend dutifully. The rise of the cliff to their right formed a sort of shelter along the vale below and diminished the snow drifts enough to afford the horses easy passage. The horses' hooves kicked up glistening white plumes as they stepped high to make headway through the loose pack. They rode quickly along the verge into the tree stand and continued up a shallow hill beyond. Ghedlyn forced herself not to look back at the waterfall, lest she have misgivings. Sildane knew exactly where to go; she had spent days wheedling the information from of the green sister's warder who first came here to scout.

"Not that long of a ride," Sildane said quietly, her brown eyes crinkled slightly in concern. "Through that cut ahead and up a curving slope. Supposedly a log cabin stands on the high ground. He keeps to himself most of the time, going down to Baerlon for supplies every month or so."

"Be careful," Ghedlyn warned, "he may be out, he may be. He might see someone coming if he stands on high ground."

"Do you suppose we should link?" Sildane asked, glancing over at Ghedlyn. "You're strong, but are you that strong?"

In half an answer, Ghedlyn embraced the friendly warmth of _saidar_ and cut free the inverted semi-shield she almost always wore. It had been a very long time since she had gone without the weave and she relished in the sudden heightening of her connection to the source, as if she had just opened a partly blocked river. She and Sildane almost always took the unspoken lie completely for granted.

"By the light of the Creator, Ghed," Sildane gasped, "I had no idea you were that strong now. If you went without that weave, _you_ would be in charge of this whole expedition and not Korene. I've gotten so used to you being about the same level as me..."

"Better that way. Not so complicated," Ghedlyn returned. She drew in _saidar_ nearly to her limit, just to stretch herself out, then released the source altogether. It felt good to fill to her true strength, but she also understood the danger.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

"Wait for a moment, Aes Sedai," Tavis had brought his destrier Maximus forward in the unbroken snow and was pacing Legendre's walk. Ghedlyn had not felt the slow increase in his concern.

She reined up and looked to the rotund warder, "What have you seen."

Glancing back at the two of them, Sildane also drew to a halt.

"Your pardon, Aes Sedai, please hold these," Tavis passed his reins to Ghedlyn and vaulted to the ground in one fluid motion. He landed so solidly that he sank to his knees in the white surface. He hitched his cloak up and trudged through the piled drifts over to a nearby pine, half hidden within its bowl of snow. He circled around the tree once and poked his head down to peer into the lip between the snow and lowest branches.

With one shake of his head, Tavis turned and retraced his steps to where the Aes Sedai waited. He lifted himself back into Maximus' saddle and retrieved his reins from Ghedlyn. "A person has been through here," he explained, "a good sized man from the look of it. This fellow is picking his path from shelter to shelter with each tree to help mask his trail."

Ghedlyn and Sildane glanced at each other.

"Suppose he knows," Sildane said.

"Suppose," Ghedlyn repeated carefully and attempted to follow the ripples out into their future.

"It would certainly not change your plans, Aes Sedai," Tavis volunteered. "We must simply proceed with caution."

"If he knows," Sildane thought aloud, "he may be running as we speak. We may not find him again! We should hurry..."

"The snow will make him easy to track," Tavis told the two women. "If he flees it will be possible to follow him."

"He will not run," Ghedlyn said simply. She thought she understood the truth this once. All those years ago, she had looked into those eyes and known. Down to the edge, he would not run. It had been years since she saw him, but his impression had not faded. The Taint in him would not let him run away.

"You think he'll be waiting?" Sildane asked.

"He will not run," she repeated with certainty.

"Whatever you choose," Tavis said, "the others will be following us shortly. We cannot have had much time before they set out after us."

"Sildane," Ghedlyn said, "I follow you Sildane. It has always been your choice. I will be with you when you need. Always."

Sildane nodded, "I do not want him to get away. He won't be gentled."

"If that is what you say, I will follow," Ghedlyn said. "We will do it together."

Taking a deep breath and emitting a puff of fog, Sildane nodded. She hupped Kestrel into motion without another word.

Knowing her friend's choice, Ghedlyn did exactly as she promised: she followed along after. "We will do it," she said, hoping to allay some of Sildane's fear. Her friend had always been there for her, so she could give no less.

They passed through the valley throat and made their way up a curving slope dotted with snow-covered pines. Tavis pointed periodically when he saw other signs of human life--a trail between trees the size a person could leave or disturbed snow where a man might have unsettled it. Sildane kept on diligently, though she sat so stiffly in her saddle that Ghedlyn thought she might at any moment break.

They both perked up when a distant sound like a slamming door echoed down the slope. Tavis solidified into a ball of cold steel in the corner of her mind, ready to strike forth at the drop of a leaf. Sildane had embraced the source and sat in her saddle surrounded by the glow of _saidar_ while Ghedlyn paused at the verge. Other echoes reached them, but no closer than the first.

"Someone cutting wood, perhaps," Tavis ventured.

"He is waiting," Ghedlyn said calmly, "he will not run."

The remainder of the trip up the snow covered slope went much more slowly as they stopping every few yards to make certain the situation had not changed. Ghedlyn suspected Sildane was still trying to nerve herself for the inevitable.

The cabin sat on the hillcrest embraced by trees on its west wall and half-buried beneath the arm of winter. A thread of gray smoke wafted from the chimney in no particular direction with the overall lack of wind. In the cabin yard, surrounded by stacks of stripped pine branches, a man in a tattered cloak swung an axe high over his head and went about the mundane chore of splitting wood. He wore a patchy beard and allowed his uncombed hair to spring from his head in nearly all directions. He glanced up from his task periodically to watch their progress, but gave no signs of alarm, or even care.

Quivering in her saddle, Sildane held enough _saidar_ to be at risk of bursting.

Upon seeing the glint in his blue eyes, Ghedlyn knew immediately that it was him.

"I wondered how long it would take you to find your way up that hill," he hailed, showing no sign of putting aside his axe to greet them.

"Then you're here," Sildane said in response. Ghedlyn was amazed at how well she kept the trembling from her voice.

"Not certain where else I would be. Haven't found anything interesting to do lately," he said, stacking one piece of cut wood atop a larger so that he could bring the axe down on it end-wise. His voice was not melodious, but his arm was plenty strong, "They have you wearing a shawl now, I see. What dinner party are you so dressed up to visit?"

"You know why I'm here," Sildane sauntered Kestrel forward in an effort to get closer to the cottage. Likely she was delaying a dismount to avoid putting weight on shaky legs.

"I can guess," he answered, setting up to split another piece of wood. He brought the axe down with the crack. "And you could not come yourself, so you brought maybe twelve of your closest friends. I knew you would have her in tow. You two never were separable. Did you finally cross that line? What did the girls in the novice apartments call it? Pillow friends?"

Ghedlyn blinked.

"I have to ask you why," Sildane said, her voice trembling ever so faintly.

"So ask already," he kicked aside the neatly split fragments and smirked at her through the sodden beard that nearly covered his mouth. "I may not be patient all day. You know how I am that way..."

"Why did you do it?"

"I felt like it," he answered.

"I don't understand," Sildane said. She fidgeted nervously in the saddle, "I don't understand why."

"What is there to understand?" He asked while he worked. "You wanted to be an Aes Sedai, didn't you? And here you've gone and done it all. You wear that shawl, do you not? Well, I wanted what I wanted too. Not my fault you weren't strong enough to stop me. Is that why you brought her with you now? Being the interesting little mess she always was I don't see why anyone would want anything to do with her. Or do you figure two linked together can stop one now?"

"I was never nasty to you," Sildane went on, "We always were friends. I had feelings even. I... I thought maybe you would be good as a warder."

"As your pudgy friend there undoubtedly knows, there is only one thing a warder cannot possibly be," he chuckled dryly.

"And that would be?"

He smiled and raised his arms to the sky, "Like me, obviously! Why else would you bring twelve of your best friends along on a lovely day like this?" Ghedlyn could see the scars scratched into his face and caught the maniacal glint in his eyes. She felt fear facing him again for the first time.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

He had finally put aside his work and devoted his entire focus on his callers. Axe haft held in one hand, he bounced the metal head in the other, "So you came all this way. You came clear from the White Tower and Tar Valon just to ask me why. Is that what I'm to understand?"

Sildane sat Kestrel uncertainly, the horse shifting slightly from foot to foot in the crunching snow. She held _saidar_ at her limit. Ghedlyn did not know if she felt significant enough danger to her person to be able to channel in self defense. The oath restricted them both from simply unleashing themselves.

Panting, Sildane found the strength to respond to his curiosity. She sounded calm, determined, though her eyes flashed with tangible fear, "No, we came all this way to kill you."

"Fortunate for me that you cannot simply turn your powers against another person unless threatened," He observed conversationally, "though I don't know why you have not yet attempted to shield me."

"I wanted to talk to you," Sildane replied, a tear bleeding down her face.

Tavis had raised his short bow. Ghedlyn did not know when he managed to string it, but he was definitely armed with it now.

The ragged man shook his head and smirked, "You touch me, you truly do. I can talk to you shielded, you know. Maybe you're just afraid to come too close to me. How exactly does a man able to channel fit into that oath? Let me remember: 'Never use the one power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn, or in extreme defense of your own life or the life of your warder.' I have not yet raised my hand against you, even as I am. And, I am no dark friend... that you know of. Do you regard shielding as a weapon? I suppose most of the men your Red Ajah drags away are fighting tooth and claw to the last. Do you not shield a man who does not stand against you?"

"You would be brought before the Hall of the Tower, one way or another," Sildane answered. "But we are going to do you a favor. You will not face Gentling. You will not go that far."

"Kind of you," the man said, "most kind indeed."

Ghedlyn blinked several times, "No darkfriend. That we know of?" How he said it bothered her.

"So the strange one can still speak," the man observed. "Do you still draw those diagrams on the ground? Can't be appropriate as an Aes Sedai, can it?"

"Your argument is with me," Sildane warned him, "Ghedlyn is not the target."

"And your argument is with me, or you would not have come all this way," the man quipped as if it were the greatest of jokes. "Or maybe not..."

Ghedlyn's head swung around at the sudden alarm beaming from Tavis.

"Aes Sedai!" he barked. Leaning far forward in his saddle, the rotund warder just managed to bring up his hand in the nick of time to block the zipping crossbow bolt that slammed against his forearm. A bolt meant for Ghedlyn. The metal head sang off the armor he wore just beneath his sleeve.

A blond woman crouched in the snow at the east end of the wintery cabin. She dropped the spent crossbow and retrieved a second already cranked and loaded.

"Watch yourself, Aes Sedai!" Tavis lunged Maximus into place to block the sightline between Ghedlyn and the woman with the loaded crossbows stacked around her in the snow.

Ghedlyn was struck by the similarity between this attack and one other clear in memory. No darkfriend?

"Heh," the ragged man shrugged, "Maybe I won't have my way with you after all."

Tavis vaulted from his saddle with a completely uncommon agility. The bolt hanging forgotten in his sleeve, he drew and fired an arrow from his short bow while still suspended in the air. The woman managed to pull back enough to foil his aim, but was unable to fire a second shot herself while engaged in self defense. Tavis hit the snow at a sprint and rapidly closed distance on this new opponent.

"So we play, do we?" the man said darkly. His smile caused Ghedlyn's hair to prickle as she brought her attention back to him.

Snow exploded upward in a rain of ice and stone. Ghedlyn embraced _saidar_ and spun up a protective weave of Air. She could feel Sildane also weaving, though her whole attention went first and foremost to defending herself. The man was weaving also, she knew, though his _saidin_ was blankness next to what women knew. Legendre squealed in agony beneath her and bucked her off in a shower of flying blood. She landed face-first in the snow, her swirling shell of Air helping to deaden the impact. She did not lay still for long when the sharpened point of _something_ threatened to sever her connection with _saidar_ and forced her to protect herself by weaving Spirit on feel alone. She scrambled up and swallowed her impinging fear. Piles of squirming horse lay on either side of her, but she had no time to think about the gore.

Ghedlyn's speed at channeling turned up weave after weave to fill vulnerabilities she sensed without knowing. _Saidin_ made a strange sort of sense, she thought from a disconnected part of herself. She could almost feel the odd surface of maleness in those invisible curves. She had guessed much about _saidin_ by use of grouping theory and by mapping symmetries in _saidar_, but this was her first chance to actually experience it in person.

As falling snow gradually cleared, she saw that the man's face was strained and his eyes widened in surprise. He found himself divided between the two Aes Sedai and Ghedlyn's strength was nothing trivial. In a curiously detached notion, Ghedlyn thought she might even be able to overpower him singlehanded. He was by no means weak, but she was something truly uncommon when it came to strong. _Saidin_ might naturally work better in a fight, she thought, but _saidar_ was its natural complement.

The man let free in his struggle with Ghedlyn and directed his extra strength into a single focused attack on Sildane, "You and I forever my girl."

His hand emitted a flurry of spewing black tendrils that cut through Sildane in a bloody burst.

"NO!" Ghedlyn shrieked and brought down a fusillade of booming lightning strokes.

"Heh..." he fended off one or two with a shield of some sort, but Ghedlyn kept on striking until nothing remained but a smoking crater bored straight down through the snow into the ground beneath.

_The way out will come but once, be steadfast._

A silver arch stood in the snow against the side of the log cabin, glowing from within.

Heart turning over in dread, Ghedlyn stumbled to her friend's side.

Sildane's eyes were wide and she gasped desperately for breath. Blood and parts littered the ground around Ghedlyn's childhood friend, though whether human or horse, she did not know.

Ghedlyn collapsed to her hands and knees and vomited hard into the snow. She could hear Tavis shouting out--in victory or defeat, she did not know.

Sildane's hand struggled up, trembling, searching. Weak fingers caught the white ermine cloak at Ghedlyn's shoulder. Her friend smiled at her, but could draw no breath to speak.

"Sildane!" Ghedlyn cried, tears on her face and all Aes Sedai control forgotten. She had hold of a skirting, shivering _saidar_ and managed to begin a semblance of Healing. She dug the weave desperately into her friend, mending and mending. If only there were not so much on the ground. She redesigned the weave and tried again, searching for the right combination of pieces to make the structure work. The effect was better, but still not enough.

Sildane was slipping away.

Ghedlyn invented freely, locking structures into a weave that never before existed in a desperate ploy to bind that precious soul into the failing flesh that lay in the snow before her. She could not let Sildane go; anyone else, maybe, but Sildane not at all.

_The way out will come but once_...

Ghedlyn shrieked in pain. She wove faster, pouring in reserves of strength rarely tapped. Healing had not been her specialty, but she was learning things this day that no woman had ever sought.

_Be steadfast_...

She could not leave Sildane.

Brown eyes stared upward like dull glass. The crimson cloak her friend had strutted in for a week was hopelessly wrecked, as was the cherished shawl and the finely tailored dress beneath. Each fading heartbeat pumped out oozing red onto frozen white.

Torn to the edge of indecision, Ghedlyn forced _saidar_ away. She wanted to stay and keep trying. She wanted to stay. She could not lose this person.

Spent to uselessness and completely defeated, the black haired woman struggled to her feet. She had walked for months and a day to abandon her dearest friend into the clutches of a sure death.

She staggered the unending distance to the silver arch in broken tears. She had to keep her eyes squeezed shut to prevent herself from buckling under the pressure and turning back.

She did not want to leave Sildane.

The weeping girl collapsed naked to her knees on a cold stone floor. No snow? The frigid winter air from just an instant before had suddenly given way to temperate warmth. The cottage and piercing mountain scene were hidden behind the glowing mist of the _ter'angreal_ archway, which stood implacable and imposing in the middle of the cut stone chamber in the basement of the White Tower. The naked girl curled herself into a tiny ball and wailed her cries off the echoing ceiling overhead. "No more! No more! No more!"

Warm arms came around her and lifted her into a warm lap. "You are safe, my child! You have returned. You're done now! No more arches." Rayanne Sedai smoothed her hair and hugged her tightly against a warm bosom.

"It happened," Ghedlyn gasped, her voice broken from screaming. "...She died! I channeled so hard... but she died!"

"Channeled...?" someone said, but was quickly shushed.

"It was not real, child. It was in the Arch. Not even the strongest woman sees anything she likes in the Arch," Rayanne Sedai whispered. "You came back and that is all that matters. You are here and it is done!"

"Do she be able to stand?" the woman hovering behind Rayanne asked. She wore a brown fringed shawl.

"Come on, now, let's get you up," Rayanne carefully lifted Ghedlyn and helped her place shaking feet on the floor.

Still in tears, Ghedlyn realized more women were in the room than when the test first began. In addition to the sisters Ghedlyn had already seen, several she did not know had appeared along with a woman who wore a seven colored stole. Ghedlyn did not know their faces, nor retained the strength to analyze the situation. The Yellow sister, Allerria, and the White sister, Meilyn, and the dark, gorgeous Green sister she did not know had all been channeling into the Archway _ter'angreal_ when the test began, but she had not seen the Blue sister with pure white hair before. A Red sister had also been shown in with a Gray sister, both of whom Ghedlyn did not recognize. Including the Brown sister who ran the test, the seven Aes Sedai arranged themselves behind the woman who wore the stole--the Amyrlin Seat, Ghedlyn realized. The Amyrlin held a silver chalice, "Come here, child, this trial has concluded."

With Rayanne Sedai's help, Ghedlyn limped forward. She felt so full of aches and pains, as if the test had gone on for a full year.

"You must kneel to her," Rayanne Sedai instructed.

Stiffly, Ghedlyn did as she was told. She doubted she would be able to come back to her feet without aid.

The Amyrlin Seat held the chalice over Ghedlyn's head and carefully began to pour. Water ran through her hair, into her ears, across her face and down her neck and back. "You are washed clean of Ghedlyn Prim from Bandar Eban," the woman in the seven color stole intoned, "You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to this world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are Ghedlyn Prim, Accepted of the White Tower. You are sealed to us now."

Once she finished the ceremonial words, the Amyrlin Seat passed the empty chalice to the Brown sister and turned to the other Aes Sedai arrayed around her. "What has happened in this room will stay among those in this room. As all of you no doubt feel, this child cannot be regarded as others are. Her life has been threatened here in the city of Tar Valon by an unknown agency that seems bent on harming the Tower by harming her. Until such a time that she can be safely elevated in the appearance of any other channeling woman, we must mask her among the company of Novices. The fewer people who know the full extent of her ability, the better it will be for the Tower as a whole.

"Rayanne," the Amyrlin Seat addressed Rayanne Sedai directly, "you will hold her serpent ring for her. Ghedlyn will wear the ring the very day Sildane takes the Accepted test, regardless of whether the other girl passes or fails and is sent away."

Rayanne Sedai cringed, "Mother... Ghedlyn... she won't need to take the test again..."

"Of course not!" the Amyrlin returned sharply, "I would not send the hardest woman back into the Arches on a penance."

She turned her attention back to the other seven Aes Sedai, "As women bound to speak no word untrue, I will hear your vows. Speak these words back to me as I speak them: 'Aside from the women in this group and those who stand with us, I shall not give away the nature of Ghedlyn Prim and I shall not speak her true rank nor lead other Aes Sedai to believe her anything more than a Novice until the day she wears the ring. I swear under the Light and in the hope of rebirth!'"

Several of the gathered sisters glanced among themselves, but all seven spoke the words in clear voices. Rayanne Sedai spoke along with them, her voice trembling.

Satisfied with the outcome, the Amyrlin nodded, "If you are the sisters I take you for, you will help make this deception seem a truth."

Ghedlyn did not understand what had happened. She wanted only to rest.

The little black haired girl was fast asleep when Rayanne Sedai carried her from the chamber with the dome-like rock ceiling. Thankfully, she did not dream.


	56. After the Arches

**After the Arches**

by viggen

Whenever Sildane broke from struggling with chores or attending lessons with the other novice girls, she found herself living in the dungeons of the Tower. She and Duvella took turns in the tiny cell during the day so that someone would always be available to watch Ghedlyn. Allerria Sedai, the yellow sister Sildane had sometimes seen at the farm periodically appeared to check on Ghedlyn, but she never stayed long.

Sildane wondered if her friend would recover. Slumped on a stool in a cloud of depression, staring blankly at a wall, Ghedlyn had not attempted to communicate in three days. She went about bodily functions, cooperated when Duvella or Sildane tried to clean her up, but ate only a little. Her deep onyx eyes were clouded over. Sometimes Sildane thought her friend was crying, but the other girl kept hiding the evidence. An awkward tendency toward isolation had always existed in Ghedlyn, but something new compounded it. She seemed more broken than Sildane had ever known her.

When they brought Ghedlyn back after the test, Rayanne Sedai had smiled sadly and refused to tell Sildane anything about it. She had made certain to swear Duvella to secrecy, for at least the third time, and pointedly directed Sildane to protect Ghedlyn.

"Do not let her channel; she is very weak," Rayanne Sedai said to Duvella as she departed. "You know the weave Duvella? Her strength has been drained, so shielding her should not be a terrible challenge, but beware..."

"Of course, Aes Sedai," Duvella curtsied.

"Good. I warn you, be ready to shield her," the heavy door thumped closed in the wake of the blonde Aes Sedai. Rayanne Sedai had not returned since.

Sildane got her first inkling how deeply impacted her friend was midway through that first night when Ghedlyn suddenly awakened, screaming with a cracked voice that threatened to fail. She burst full of _saidar_ in a flat instant before either Sildane or Duvella awakened fully enough to respond. Fortunately, Ghedlyn had not fought when Duvella remembered to embrace the source herself and slammed down a panicked shield to cut the young girl off. After they got the oil lantern turned up, Sildane saw her friend's face bone white, dark eyes the size of saucer plates and pupils dilated wide open like a tiny animal searching desperately for a means to escape a death trap. Ghedlyn flinched from hugging Sildane until the dream relaxed its hold and allowed the younger girl to fully awaken.

"You are safe, Ghed," Sildane whispered into her messy silk hair and held her tightly. "You are well, you are safe."

Ghedlyn's sobbing intensified and she buried her face against her friend's neck. She shook like a leaf in a stiff wind and her tears rapidly soaked throungh Sildane's shift.

Duvella stood back with a tear running down her face, "She's too young. Light blinded Aes Sedai should not have put her through the Arches."

"I- I don't understand," Sildane said to Duvella, continuing to hold Ghedlyn tightly in some hope that the younger girl would calm. "What did they do to her?"

Duvella's eyes went glassy and she touched her Great Serpent ring in thought. "Burn all Aes Sedai. May they eat ash and choke on it..." she did not say more, returning instead to her cot to lie down and throw a blanket over her head. Sildane knew the young woman was not actually trying to sleep since she kept hold of the Spirit shield secured on Ghedlyn.

Ghedlyn cried until she simply lapsed back into unconsciousness.

The first nightmare was far from being the last and Sildane was dog-tired by the time the night ended and she needed to go to her first shift in the Tower kitchen.

In the following days, Ghedlyn improved only a little. The violent nightmares occurred several times a night and left both Sildane and Duvella perpetually exhausted. Sildane found herself nodding off during her lessons, which several times earned her a sharp rap across the knuckles by whatever Aes Sedai happened to be teaching. After Sildane's burst of temper on her first day in the Tower, the burst that first landed her in trouble with the Mistress of Novices, most of the other novice girls left Sildane alone and observed a pointed silence whenever she came near. She found herself wandering in a lonely daze from one duty to the next.

The powerful silver-haired Aes Sedai, Meilyn, appeared on an infrequent basis to check on Sildane. One time, without saying a word, she took Sildane's face between her palms, and channeled a weave of flourishing ice that left Sildane refreshed, as if following a good night's sleep. Another time, she patted Sildane on the shoulder and said merely, "Take heart, this affair was difficult and had no simple solution. She did well enough for a woman twice her age and cannot be expected to recover as quickly. If she is the material she seems to be, she will return to us soon."

Sildane did her best to endure. The only novice girl who would associate with her was moon-faced Tindyl, who seemed bent on taking possession of her as the proud older sister of a wayward sibling. The older girl stolidly ignored the glares and silence of the other novices to accompany Sildane. "Can you help me today?" she would often ask. "How about later, after dinner when everybody goes back to the novice quarters?"

Sildane demurred as politely as possible, uncertain how to take Tindyl's overtures. The situation with the older girl felt almost like her own relationship with Ghedlyn, but with Sildane forced somehow into the role of "kid sister." Telling Tindyl that she did not know how to teach channeling grew prohibitively difficult when faced with the older girl's pleading eyes. Sildane did not want to be in any more trouble with Aes Sedai than she already was, which made the situation even more awkward. At one of Tindyl's advances, Sildane was finally forced to reply, "There is someone else you should probably talk to, but she isn't here yet..."

"You know someone who knows more? Will you introduce me?" Tindyl asked excitedly.

With a shrug, Sildane departed on the note, "Maybe sometime soon."

Duvella never quite returned to the chatty, friendly-yet-homely woman she had been when she and Sildane first met. An air lingered around her that Sildane almost took to be Aes Sedai-like. The woman never quite cracked an expression, though volumes seemed always to be pouring through her mind. They met during the day when they traded turns babysitting Ghedlyn, they ate together when Allerria Sedai spelled them for a few minutes to visit the Tower dining hall to eat and then they lay quietly in their pallets staring at the ceiling during the night, wondering when another nightmare would possess Ghedlyn. Sildane had seen Duvella weave the shield of Spirit enough times that she thought she could reproduce it now. If Ghedlyn were herself, she would not only be able to weave the Spirit shield, but could probably do some things with it that Sildane did not even want to think about.

"It took me months," Duvella said once, her voice breaking an hours long silence.

"What took months?" Sildane asked. Her brain had been turning over the day's channeling lesson with Verin Sedai and she did not know what Duvella might be referring to.

"I had nightmares after the Arches too," the woman admitted. "I barely came back and I was years older than Ghedlyn when I went in."

"Is it really that bad?" Sildane wondered.

"Because you can channel, you will face it someday," Duvella replied. She rolled onto her side in the dimness of the barely lit lamp. "It is a test, of that there can be no doubt. I see myself in her, how I felt."

"Did you sit around for days not wanting to talk to anyone?"

"I must've lost a stone for not wanting to eat. I was afraid to sleep," Duvella said. "They have been particularly kind to her since they have yet to toss her out the door and drag her to her lessons. But, they won't be patient forever. I suppose they are still concerned about hiding this girl's strength."

Sildane lay on her back staring at the ceiling, trying to comprehend an experience awful enough to crush anyone. From her lessons and from all her time with Rayanne Sedai, she knew a little about how the Tower turned a woman into an Aes Sedai. For those women who could learn to channel, beyond the challenges and chores and unending lessons, two life-and-death tests stood between a novice and the oath rod. She knew Ghedlyn had taken the first. Rayanne Sedai had been oblique about answering any questions. "What happens during the test?" she ventured carefully.

"Something different happens for everyone," Duvella responded very quietly, "and something the same for everyone. It was the worst thing I can imagine. I left the test hating all Aes Sedai. Seeing her like that, I remember the feeling."

With a snort, her singsong voice ragged with misuse, Ghedlyn suddenly spoke, "Did it happen?"

Sildane gave a start. Her friend lay in her pallet as when they put her to bed, but her face peeked out from beneath a protective blanket, intent on Duvella. "Ghedlyn!" she had assumed the other girl was asleep.

"Did it happen?" she asked again. She sounded so haunted.

After a bloated moment of thought, Duvella said, "Inside the Arches, anything seems possible."

"But the last Arch, did it really happen, happen really did it? That Arch."

"The last Arch was the hardest," Duvella said.

"But the symmetry of the pattern is happened not yet in reflection to what might not yet might be," the tumble of words from the black haired girl made almost no sense to Sildane, but they seemed important to Ghedlyn. "Did it happen?"

"Do you mean 'Will it happen'?" Duvella asked.

Ghedlyn mulled the not-at-all tacit suggestion. She finally nodded.

"I don't know," Duvella returned. "I'm not old enough to know yet about what happened during my own test. No girl sees the same thing. I asked questions about it once, and the Aes Sedai did not say anything for certain. Some girls see things inside that they never see again in their lives while some girls see things that actually come close to happening. However true the inside of the Arch, it is never quite reality, ever."

"If... if... if she dies," Ghedlyn choked, visibly laboring not to break into tears, "I do not know what to do. If that truth is true when other parts are untrue, what do I do?"

"I don't know," Duvella admitted honestly. "I don't know what I'll do if what I saw comes true."

"I cannot live if she dies like that," Ghedlyn whispered.

Sildane cringed at the statement, aware that Ghedlyn was avoiding looking at her. Even in the dimness, Sildane could tell that her friend's hooded face was fixed with blinders on Duvella.

"I don't know what will happen if the things inside the Arch turn true," Duvella began to reiterate, "but I know I can't spend my whole life worried about taking another step as if the worst possible thing is always hanging over my head. I think maybe that's why some girls do not come back."

Ghedlyn gasped almost inaudibly, "I wanted to stay."

Duvella chuckled at that, "Everybody who comes back says that. Every Accepted I know says the same thing. For most girls, they needed to want to be an Aes Sedai more than anything to escape it. For me, I just wanted to get out and strangle the first woman I saw wearing the shawl."

"Are you going to be well, Ghed?" Sildane asked timorously. This new facet in her friend frightened her.

Ghedlyn lay for a long while without answering. She clapped her hands about her head and made gasping noises, as though struggling against some invisible force. "I am sorry Sildane, I am. I miss Papa. I miss home. I promised not to cry, but I cried. I promised to face the next thing. I promised to face the hurt. I promised to be strong as you as strong as and broke. So sorry, so sorry, so sorry."

Sildane stretched her arm across the cool stone floor between their pallets and sought out Ghedlyn's hand. The other girl grudgingly took hold. She could feel the rapid beat of her friend's heart in that tense, tiny palm. "Did you see the future somehow?" Sildane asked.

"Sildane..." Duvella said.

"Yes," Ghedlyn continued to struggle against sobbing, "no."

"Did I die, Ghed?" Sildane felt ice creeping up her spine. She did not know if she wanted to hear what the black haired girl would say. She held her breath.

Ghedlyn's fingers tightened.

She said nothing.

Inhaling deeply, Sildane felt as if she were falling. Her head grew light. She knew the truth, whether or not Ghedlyn actually wanted to say it.

Duvella reached out and cupped both her hands over theirs. Her voice was gentle and measured, "The Arch does not tell what will happen. She saw something that was bound to hurt her. It may mean nothing."

Steeling herself, Sildane leveled her breathing, "Whatever happens, Ghed, I'm still here. We'll both get stronger. We'll make certain that the part which hurts the most doesn't become the truth."


	57. Book 4: Chapter 1

**Youngest Channeler: Book 4**

by viggen

Nordel gave a tiny sigh and strummed his new harp. The instrument was of inferior quality, plucked from the first vendor he saw carrying such instruments as they threaded their way out of Tar Valon. The craftsmanship failed to impress, with the spine ill-fit to the shape of his arm and the sonorous qualities of the wood lacking. Ample tinkering during their gallop to the south toward Cairhien brought several of the strings into clear enough tune, while some would never sound properly on the misbegotten pot. Fingering strings such as these would send a court bard into an apoplectic fit. He dearly regretted the loss of his previous harp, but this one would be satisfactory until he could find better.

Rayanne was a bundle of nerves these days. Since they left Tar Valon, she had not said a single sentence that did not make him cringe. She chased a thousand miscellaneous worries that few Yellow sisters ever sought. She knew herself unsuited for the battle field, but felt a confusingly strong sense of duty to her current cause. She had not yet explained all the details and seemed to guard her tongue next to their new traveling companions.

The darkly beautiful Green Ajah sister, Kerene, cast an incredibly imposing figure with little effort. She had a tactful and military bearing, expectant, even eager for anything to come without being exactly blood-thirsty. Rayanne deferred to the woman with every downcast glance and unspoken statement. Nordel found the behavior odd, given how long they had been away from the Tower hierarchy, but he understood the wordless shifting of order that seemed to follow some of the more powerful Aes Sedai. While Rayanne had tried to explain it once, Nordel still did not understand the customary behaviors based upon strength in the power. Still, as a gaidin, he knew better than to question.

Kerene's two warders were the veritable cream-of-the-crop. They were men Nordel would avoid crossing; the guardians of a Green Sister had a different agenda from the guardians of a Yellow. Nordel was more than competent with his own straight sword, but these men trained nonstop to follow their mistress into the heart of battle--quite fortunate that they were his brothers by sword. During their nightly breaks, Nordel spent time at the campfire sparring both to help hone his own skill and found himself overmatched by both the massive, golden haired Karile and by Stepin, despite his sometimes dour expression.

Next to the powerful Green Ajah sister and her two warders, the young man Tavis who had been sent along with them by the Amyrlin Seat made a peculiar addition to their group. As far as Nordel could tell, he was not a warder. Sitting awkwardly in his saddle, he appraised the world mildly with narrowed gray eyes and an almost comically stupid expression on his round face. Given his excess girth and his outward lack of coordination, Nordel's initial impression was that he would be a liability in a fight. He bantered and joked almost carelessly, though he carried only a short bow and a hunting knife for arms. Nordel's appraisal of the fellow changed sharply when he saw the other man dismount his sway-backed horse the first night they stopped. Most warders moved with a lethal grace, but this man shifted so effortlessly from light to heavy, from frumpy to deft that grace seemed to flicker into and out of existence around him as he moved. He detected wariness in Kerene's warders toward the man and while the fellow did not join their practice sessions, he watched closely and wore a bemused half-smile throughout. Nordel had to continuously remind himself that the young man was someone handpicked to his task by the Amyrlin Seat and that he was most certainly well qualified for the job.

After their harrowing trip to bring the two girls north from the farm, Nordel was relieved to have so many skilled hands at his side. Only a fool tempted combat without good camaraderie.

"These ridges may suit us," Kerene had observed that first afternoon when they arrived on the roadway just east of Cairhien. The business was to watch rather than fight, so raised vantage points served their immediate ends. Given what Nordel originally learned from the cut-throats who came after them on the road to Tar Valon, the glade on this stretch was the scene of a payout that few brigands would be willing to miss, especially for the head of a poorly described child.

Sitting Ragabash near Prancer with Rayanne, Nordel tweaked a peg on one harp string a smidge tighter. They had sat in their saddles for two days, milling in an open area atop the short ridge, waiting for anything. Rayanne alternated between sitting on Prancer and walking back and forth impatiently to stretch her legs. Kerene and her two warders had the ridge on the opposite side of the roadway while Tavis had joined Rayanne and Nordel.

"I do believe the sound is getting clearer," Tavis commented amicably. His gray eyes scanned the road below them ceaselessly.

"The wood has dried some," Nordel returned, "But I fear the knots will always disturb the sound."

"Your last harp must have been something to behold," Tavis said.

Nordel shrugged, "Not much better than this, I fear."

Men shouted and hacked away at one another on the road while they watched. One group would arrive, and then another. Nordel, Tavis and Rayanne were too distant to hear how the confrontations escalated, but no two groups of swarthy men on that road tolerated each other. They focused so intensely on possible rivals that they failed to notice their watchers. Sooner or later, their greed would cause them to raise steel and then litter the ground with as many of their opponents as possible. A few of the losers would flee, but the men cut at one another with an almost frantic intensity.

"How much were they offered?" Tavis wondered aloud.

"A royal treasury, it would seem," Nordel shook his head in wonderment while watching another combatant fall. "How they were made to believe it, I cannot rightly say."

"I wonder how many children died on that road for this many men to be striving to gain the prize," Tavis continued.

"If they were only taken on the road," Nordel turned his attention back to his new harp and hummed a bar while plucking strings. "I wonder how many will fail to appear because some village constable somewhere caught them in the act."

"With the number of bravos fighting it out now, I shudder to think."

Nordel scoffed bitterly, "If there were a way to make certain they all got their just deserves, I would insert the blade myself."

"We're watching, my friend," Tavis chuckled, "we're here to watch rather than punish."

Rayanne had kept her tongue very sharply in check while witnessing men die. Though she was not a powerful channeler with Healing, her basic Yellow Ajah nature did not happily abide people slaughtering one another. She sat on Prancer with her eyes pinched and mouth compressed to a line most of the day. Still, Kerene had been insistent; they would watch and not become involved, even to Heal. Nordel could feel her revulsion at that.

A few cowards fleeing their inevitable fate had stumbled across the Aes Sedai, the warder and the "representative for the Seat." Seeing Nordel's brutal face usually was enough to set most to flight, but Nordel and Tavis both became alert each time the incident occurred.

"It would be no surprise at all if the instigator never showed up," Tavis contemplated aloud. "Very clean and elegant to simply stir up the nest and let the matters settle themselves."

"We cannot afford to miss this lead," Rayanne interjected. Nordel knew she deliberately left out the concern about how deeply the conspiracy might penetrate into the Tower or her worry at leaving the two girls undefended back in Tar Valon. Nordel was not quite so worried: Meilyn seemed a more than competent guardian among competent women.

Nordel's eyes caught a glint of steel in sunlight and he glanced up from his tuning. There was motion in the trees on the other side of the road somewhat to the side of the ridge where Kerene and her warders stood posted. Watching for a moment, Nordel pointed for Tavis' benefit, "There, below the hill."

"I see them," the other man said, "another gang debating when to start fighting?"

"Difficult to say," Nordel squinted. He had caught the motion, but could not clearly see numbers. "Do you suppose Kerene needs to be warned?"

Tavis barked a laugh, "I doubt that woman needs defending."

Nordel smiled closely to himself, the first such smile on his lips in a great while. Given her experience, Kerene probably knew more about these visitors already than he and Tavis did.

Other groups approached each other along the road, repeating the same dance over and over again with little variation. As casualties mounted, newcomers often began by looting the deceased before snapping into one another. The scale did not match that of a pitched battle between armies, but the few combatants that fell with each new crossing of swords were beginning to accumulate into a significant number. The peak of the day passed and the afternoon was well on with much the same occurring.

"Hisst," Tavis gave a sudden warning.

"Hulloo!" a voice sounded cheerfully through the trees at them as a man mounted the hill toward them on horseback.

Nordel had been in a lull contemplating his harp, but snapped instantly to attention when he recognized the voice of the man approaching them. He let his harp fall to his side on its cord and clapped his hand onto the grip of his straight sword. Rayanne also came to attention, fully ready to channel if the need arose.

"Hulloo," the newcomer hailed again. "Quite the show, do you not agree?!"

Walking his chestnut mare, the fellow in the gray cloak with the wide brimmed hat smiled happily as he emerged from cover. Nordel saw the oiled black beard smoothed to a point and the scar traced into his right cheek. "Renard," he growled.

"So happy to see you again, Nordel," Renard dipped an exaggerated bow in the saddle that flared out his gray cloak. "I had not figured that our paths would cross again quite so soon. But it is a delight."

"You would come _here_ alone?" Nordel returned with subtle menace. As though reflecting her warder's emotions, Rayanne strained right to the edge of channeling at the man, stopped short only by her Oath. She knew Renard from Nordel's description and had her own additional feelings from Ghedlyn's predicament.

Renard grinned and shook his head, "I still cannot get over how you look without any hair. Rest assured I'm not at all alone. I came only to talk today, but do not doubt that I can see your lady dead should she channel against me even to capture me. I do know all about the Oath."

"Hmmm," Nordel breathed, hand still on blade. He felt Rayanne pause uncertainly. A sneaky archer could be an Aes Sedai's worst enemy. He still owed Renard for that night in the rain, but he refused to risk Rayanne's life on what truth the man might or might not be speaking.

"I can tell you also came to talk, or was it to watch?" Renard cocked his head to see Nordel's companions, "You don't have the numbers to do much more than watch and you're not at all arranged to involve yourselves."

"We are watching," Nordel admitted, "for whoever put up these brigands into action. As if there were any doubt in me now."

Renard's gaze had fixed on Rayanne, "You must be Nordel's own Aes Sedai. Oh, to be in his position," he twitched a hand up to smooth his pointed black beard. "A fine dandle on the leg you might make. The pouting mouth, the icy eyes. One might imagine your other kiss with lips as pink... maybe someday I shall know."

"Unlikely at best," Rayanne replied with winter frigidity.

Granting her a wicked smile, Renard removed his wide brimmed hat and bowed his head. "Should ever you feel otherwise, the invitation will remain forever... open."

"Easy, my friends," Tavis settled his sway-backed horse and held up his hands, "We are not here to exercise the same wiles as those ruffians on the road."

"You and I have not had the pleasure," Renard appraised Tavis. "A man here without a sword on his belt is either very foolish or very sure of himself. If you trust the latter, one might wonder if you are not actually the former."

"I have heard of you," Tavis smiled blandly. "Stories about your blade still circulate among the gaidin. I know better than to test you."

"Smart enough," Renard exclaimed, "certainly less excitable than Tower guard. The rabbit has found herself some interesting new bedfellows."

"Why have you come, Renard?" Nordel asked, hand still poised either to defend Rayanne or to strike down his former friend.

"To have a civil conversation, of course," Renard smirked. He held out his hands to either side to show he carried no weapons. "Is the rabbit well? The way she bolted the last time took even my associate wolves by surprise. She is a quick little creature. Word has it that the Aes Sedai did something unmentionably cruel to her."

"They are protecting her," Nordel said. He felt a surge of anger from Rayanne. "She is safe in responsible hands."

"Now that's not a very informed thing to say," Renard gave an exaggerated scowl. "She should be treated better than that. She is a child after all."

"I'm not sure how you can say that after you set all these men to kill her," Nordel gestured toward the roadway, where another group of brigands were assaulting one another.

"Oh, tit for tat," Renard laughed, "if she can be acquired she should be acquired. If there is no choice but to let her fall into Tower possession, she should be dead. In the end, I really do not care whether she lives or dies. What's precious about her is the opportunity to put a thumbscrew on all those arrogant witches! What patriot can pass up the chance to do damage to them? Think of how many souls would snatch up the chance at our little rabbit if they knew she could be a pressure point on the entire sisterhood! The opportunity boggles the mind."

"You're dreaming," Rayanne told him. "The Tower cannot be harmed by the loss of any one girl."

"After the ends you visited to hunt her down when she escaped us, you can't expect me to believe that," he grinned. "I'm certainly not the only interested party to notice! And with the Green sister standing over on that other ridge watching this road patiently... you think I don't know who _she_ is? There are a handful of sisters that everyone with any sense watches out for. If one or two together get involved, you can bet it's important."

Tavis chuckled, "Hard to bet on the interests of Aes Sedai. You would be surprised what matters 'important' sisters can involve themselves in."

"Oh, I'm sure a Green sister whoring herself out to the front line of an army might be taken as important, but generally only by the men who end up without strings tied to them. You should not mistake us for stupid: we know what 'important' is."

"Have you come only to taunt, Renard?" Nordel asked. "I'm growing tired of this."

"Don't be crude my bald-headed friend," Renard winked at him, "I genuinely thought to pay my regards and say "hulloo." I'm all eager to cross swords with you again, but not today."

"We know a bit more about you too," Tavis said, "You were uncertain enough of your position that you wanted to see who we would send."

"Very astute for someone so rotund," Renard exclaimed. "Not the typical swine here."

"And not the typical fox either," Tavis smiled as he returned the expression, apparently without noticing the intended insult, "or feral dog as I've seen before."

"Feral dogs bite as sharply as wolves," Renard reminded. He nonchalantly flicked the reins to turn his horse and began back down the slope. "A point of advice, Nordel: we are far from trumped. We know the rabbit and we are still hunting. When you know the least of a wolf is generally when they strike. When you tire of bald, the offer is still open my lady."

"We should capture him," Rayanne growled, "Capture him and find out what he knows."

Nordel was about to speak up when Tavis beat him to the punch, "My lady, we can't know what parts of what he said are true. With only three of us and with Kerene on the other side of the valley, we are not necessarily at the advantage."

"He was feeling us out," Nordel added, hand still positioned to draw his sword. "Rattle the cage a bit and see what falls out."

"But he told us something truly important," Rayanne exclaimed, "He knows information is coming out of the Tower."

"Maybe," Nordel said, "but maybe he just guessed what would cause the greatest response from you. I think we should join with Kerene and try to follow him."

"It makes sense," Tavis agreed.

Tavis set out after Renard while Nordel and Rayanne hurried across the valley to the other ridge to meet Kerene and her warders. Tavis was able to track Renard far enough to know he had not come alone, but ended up losing him in the confusion of fighting brigands.

Kerene absorbed the news impassively. She glanced at her two warders and said, "The group that stayed in the forest by the base of our ridge was ten or twelve and well armed. Twelve men attacking flat out are child's play for two Aes Sedai to handle, but if such men are smart, they will use our Oath against us and take us by surprise, maybe killing one or both of us. It is dangerous business fighting someone who knows you. We should try to follow the trail a little further to see if we get lucky and then decide whether to head back to the Tower. At least he didn't kill anyone this time around."

"Unless you count the brigands killing each other over an imaginary fortune," Tavis put in.

When Nordel and Rayanne were alone when the group stopped to set up camp that night, Rayanne shook her head angrily and said, "I felt almost threatened enough to be able to hit him with a lightning bolt. I wish that I could have. He will be trouble later."

"I'm happy you didn't," Nordel said and enfolded her with a hug. "Likely, you would have died for that. When I knew him, his threats were almost always serious."

"But he will be back."

"And Ghedlyn will need protecting from whoever he's working with. The fight most certainly has not started yet."


	58. Book 4: Chapter 2

Youthful Andro stood by patiently while Meilyn read the letter he had delivered into her waiting hands. Holding the sheet out for light from the window of her study, she sat erect with her steel gray hair pulled neatly over one shoulder and carefully scanned the message twice. Her oaken bureau desk lay perfectly clean except for three parchments from a records clerk. She read the letter one final time to be thorough: Meilyn did not believe in jumping to conclusions based upon incomplete or misapprehended information.

At last, she put the letter aside and focused her full attention on her warder, "What are your impressions of how Tavis operates? Can we be certain this move was accurate?"

Andro shrugged ambivalently and smiled a bland smile, "The man is sharp. The Amyrlin has a good eye. He made a perfect point man."

"Then you believe Kerene's plan was a success?" Meilyn moved to adjust the parchment and arranged one sheet in particular several finger-breadths to the side of the other two. "And that we did not abduct someone who is completely uninvolved."

"It will take some time to tell: at first glance, I would take the fellow to be completely innocent," Andro shuffled from one foot to the other and slipped his hands into his vest pockets. "Tavis pointed him out and we threw the burlap over his head. Done slick as ice and no Aes Sedai obviously involved. With luck, his absence won't be missed for some time."

"And Rayanne is not aware? Yellows do not stomach these sorts of actions well."

"Her warder may have some idea, but she is unaware. If he knows anything, he may want to keep her in the dark on it as well," Andro made a quirk with his lips. "I am surprised you decided to help sanction this."

"The enemy is operating above morality," Meilyn said, "It is only logical that we out-maneuver them at their own game. Did Kerene give you any idea of her expectations at Cairhien?"

"Not very high," Andro said, "I believe Nordel's information was good, but the other side is more clever and careful than to paint so obvious a mark on themselves, especially working with this former warder. Rayanne really does think our presence there was all about observing. Poor girl will not like finding out she was bait. Using Tavis was the crux of Kerene's trick and that part worked beautifully."

Meilyn lifted her eyebrow archly, "That 'poor girl' has staked more on this than anyone. See that you pay her respect fitting of her Aes Sedai stature, Andro."

"Of course Aes Sedai," Andro was a reliable hand, but his youth sometimes still got the better of him. Meilyn was working hard to break him of his irreverent streak.

"It was logical to assume Rayanne would be a focus," Meilyn thought aloud, "when paired with Kerene, they were bound to draw out anyone interested in the child. To use the excursion to the south as an excuse to watch for anyone who became too curious here in Tar Valon was logical. Capturing this fellow may prove invaluable. Kerene was wise in her strategy."

"When I left them in Tresgard, she made it sound as if she intended to take a long route back," Andro explained. He cleared his throat, "They may be some time yet. I think she hopes to get lucky."

Meilyn shook her head, "Hard to quote to her the costs versus benefits at this point. At least, there is some logic in attempting to keep the enemy's focus away from the fact that she already reached her objective. Andro, please begin as we discussed. You have the letter of rights I gave? This must stay clear of the Tower."

Andro bowed his head, "Of course, Aes Sedai. As you instructed," he turned to the door, "by your leave, then?"

Meilyn gestured him out, "Be certain to let me know the progress. Remember that your age is the reason you have this side of the task. Your face is not well known. If this fellow can be persuaded to point the way to someone more important, you are best to follow the trail."

"I hear, Aes Sedai. I'll do as you wish, but please make certain to send for me if you decide to travel away from the Tower," He closed the door gently in his wake.

"Don't be so stodgy: you're far too young," Meilyn teased at his departure.

Once she was alone, she carefully stood and straightened her snow-white dress. Andro was her latest hard-luck case, a litter runt chosen as much on whim as for any other reason. Of the tiny White Ajah, most women lost themselves so completely in their respective interests that they failed to ever bond a warder, while the few who did generally selected on the basis of filling an errant need. Green sisters usually picked warriors but sometimes seemed to be working to build a harem, Blues picked spies and sentinels, Browns and Grays picked bodyguards, Yellows picked for a hundred ephemeral reasons, Reds did not pick and Whites, when they stumbled out of their studies in confusion, picked from the leftovers. During her time in the Tower, Meilyn had selected warders for nearly every possible need: bodyguard, lover, confidante, co-conspirator and even scapegoat. With advancing age, as other needs grew fleeting, she had finally selected an errand boy. Warders could live a long time, but they always seemed to die eventually. The first two taught her that. Lacking any wish to be bound at an emotional level the way many younger women chose, Meilyn had selected her most recent in the role of "assistant." Still, a sword wielding boy could prove helpful in many interesting ways. He had a quick wit with numbers, which sometimes made him useful in solving logic puzzles. Perhaps as their time together lengthened, she would invent other reasons for their association. One's warder tended to grow on one, no matter how emotionally detached the initial association. At the very least, she had long since learned the logic in keeping around a reliable second pair of hands.

Walking back and forth before the chalk slate she had fixed to one wall of the study, Meilyn set her mind back to the most interesting puzzle to present itself of late. The girl seemed finally to be calming down after her experiences in the Archway. Once she returned to a state where she would be able to use her talents, Meilyn intended to set her to work. Until then, the White sister was planning her approach with what should be taught first and what tasks might give her the best feel for the child's obviously considerable potential. Recopying _Ful'grin_ would be instructive, depending on where the girl had gone from there. Rayanne had only placed the book in the child's hands for a year. What had she learned in that time? The Amyrlin's ultimate intent was a simple one since _Ful'grin_ really only served a single purpose. If the Amyrlin Seat actually did intended to use the child in that capacity, it would make for some interesting outcomes when it finally came time to put the Oath rod in the girl's hands.

This combination of excitement and disquiet was foreign to Meilyn's life. One thousand years--that was the period between times of upheaval. One thousand years from the Breaking of the World to the Trolloc Wars. One Thousand years from the Trolloc Wars to Artur Hawkwing. And one thousand years more? One need not be a White to be able to make predictions from that pattern. Gitara's foretellings were beginning to hint that times were growing short. Meilyn wondered if it would be within her own lifetime that the events predicted in the Karaethon Cycle began to unfold leading ultimately onto the final field of battle. Tarmon'gaidon was coming and that day was not in the infinite future. Meilyn was older than nearly all the other Aes Sedai currently wearing the shawl and knew her own times were probably short. These past few years, the tightness of her Oaths stretched to the point where she always felt them. Times were indeed tightening, stretching her out further than most women lasted. And now, one of the greatest tasks in her life presented itself. She hoped she had enough time remaining.

Meilyn needed to know whether this one child could take the step beyond the _Ful'grin_. If this was the last important thing in her life, she needed to know.

There was a soft tap on the door, "Aes Sedai?"

"Enter," Meilyn turned slowly to the door, sweeping her long, straight hair over her shoulder such that it fell down her back. She clasped her hands behind her and stood to her full height.

A blonde serving girl wearing black livery marked with the white flame of Tar Valon tentatively stuck her head through the entry, "Meilyn Aes Sedai, a man is here to see you. Romanda Sedai said that I should bring him to you."

Meilyn had been anticipating the eventuality of this meeting, "Do not dally, girl, show him in."

"Yes, Aes Sedai," the girl made a quick curtsy and disappeared.

When she returned, she brought with her a tall, black-haired Domani man who wore a ruby in one ear. His copper-toned skin was sun-darkened and dark almond eyes were pinched with many lines. Meilyn instantly saw his distrust.

"Aes Sedai, I present Master Tradesman Dursh Prim," she dipped another curtsy and vanished back through the door as if she wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

Dursh Prim stared at Meilyn for a time, clearly debating what he would say next. Meilyn noticed his lack of courtesy--something to fix.

"Master Prim," Meilyn circled her bureau desk and reseated herself, "Do you care for tea? Tell me, would you approach a king as brazenly? Not a logical attitude if you wish to procure what you want."

A vein stood out in the man's forehead and the next words from his mouth were screaming, "WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE LIGHT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY DAUGHTER?!!! Logical attitude?! Blood and Ashes, woman! What the Light do I care about what you want?! I want my daughter handed over NOW!!"

Meilyn met the outburst without changing her expression. She had guessed the man angry. "No," she said simply.

"WHAT?!!" his face went beet red and his next words were sputtering and incoherent.

Meilyn steepled her hands with her elbows on the desk and watched him calmly. Master Prim paced several times in a rage, spouting a few oaths Meilyn had not heard before. "...Of all the arrogant, Light-blinded...!"

She let him vent without a single quirk on her face or saying another word. She had all the time in the world to wait and had waited out far worse.

When he finally began to exhaust himself, which really did not take as long as Meilyn thought it might, she said, "Are you quite finished now? I had wondered if I wouldn't need to take you over my knee like an ill-mannered child."

Tradesman Prim twitched at that, but bit his lip.

"You can be taught, then," Meilyn concluded.

Fury etched on his features, Tradesman Prim made a proper bow and said, "My apologies, Aes Sedai. I was led to believe that my daughter would be made available to me when I returned here. Rayanne Sedai's warder left me a message in Tresgard that she was here. When we came north, it was agreed that I would have access to my daughter, whatever the Tower decided."

Meilyn nodded, "We do not lie, Tradesman. Your daughter will be available to you, but you must understand that it cannot be entirely freely: she is beginning her training and has duties that demand much of her time and attention."

"That cannot be," Dursh Prim exclaimed, "Ghedlyn can't handle anything like that. She is such a fragile, frightened girl most of the time."

Meilyn favored him with a sage smile that did not reach her eyes, "You would be surprised what exactly your daughter can handle."

Prim twitched again, and this time with a flare of fear, but said nothing.

"We agree that she is still very young for Tower training and allowances are being made to accommodate her needs," she paused. "Master Tradesman, to the ends of your daughter, I would like to offer you a posting here at the Tower as a Chief Clerk. We know you are amply qualified for such a position and we think it will put you in close enough contact so that you can remain a support in your daughter's life."

"But," Prim hesitated, revulsion and hope warring in him, "...but what of my trading enterprise? My time is needed to keep my business running."

"You will be generously compensated for your efforts and you will be afforded skilled subordinates sufficient to manage your duties here and in your business," Meilyn told him. "We are making a few other procurements in favor of your daughter to help her adjust to Tower life and we believe you may be the most important."

"I will do what I can for my daughter," Tradesman Prim finally answered, his face fallen.

"A logical choice," Meilyn said, "Will you take some tea, Master Tradesman?"


	59. Book 4: Chapter 3

The cook Ballentine let Sildane free from her kitchen duties only after she had cleaned what seemed like every piece of Seafolk porcelain in the Tower. She stood rubbing her arms in the corridor outside the kitchen and sighed wistfully.

The dishes had propagated into an infinite chore. For every dish she scrubbed clean and dried, two more materialized to fill the vacancy. Though Sildane rarely saw Aes Sedai while working in the kitchen, she was beginning to realize that the sisters could be very demanding of cooks: they expected perfection of their meals and some dishes carried up to their apartments sometimes came back untouched if improperly prepared. Of course, Aes Sedai were not the sole source of dirty dishes with Accepted and novices in the dining hall devouring everything the cooks had time to prepare in the midst of catering to the sisters. But even they weren't the last of it. Sildane ended up cleaning dishware for not only Aes Sedai, Accepted, novices, but also for every Tower servant who needed feeding. Meilyn Sedai had mitigated some of her punishment, but Latel Sedai--as Mistress of Novices-- had still gotten a small say. Once Ghedlyn had begun to behave better after her test ordeal, Sildane found herself intimately acquainted with the kitchen. Her hands were permanently raw.

Working with the cooks could be both lonely and peaceful. Ballentine smiled at her in a motherly way, but often heaped on all the more chores for it. Most of the other novice girls who had kitchen duties with Sildane gave her a wide berth and often refused to say more to her than a few tight-lipped words. Some of the silent treatment stemmed from her fight with Therva, but some also came from the fear accompanying the revelation that Sildane had gone against Latel Sedai. Of course, the infamy wasn't just that she had channeled at an Aes Sedai--a few arrogant girls had made that mistake--it was that she had actually managed to do so successfully. She was thankful she wasn't yet back to sleeping in her tiny room around the other girls, but knew the day would eventually arrive. Working in the kitchen, at the very least, she never had to worry about the backlash which went with being a social pariah.

Her time spent in the dungeon had recently dwindled. When Ghedlyn finally began to behave more normally, Meilyn Sedai appeared and promptly set her to work. The stately Aes Sedai did not want Sildane or Duvella or anyone else to see what she and Ghedlyn were up to, so neither Sildane nor the Accepted were allowed into the dungeon cell when Meilyn was present. So, Sildane no longer saw her friend during the day and Ghedlyn was often too exhausted in the evening to be very forthcoming about her new situation. For her own part, the little black-hair girl seemed exceptionally determined, which was remarkable since she always seemed profoundly determined about everything she did anyway.

Leaned against the white stone wall, Sildane relished the moment of laxity. A pile of studying awaited her in her tiny room in the novice quarters, but she was not quite ready to face that trial. Standing idle outside the kitchen ran the risk of an Aes Sedai catching her, but she hardly cared for the moment. Black liveried servants who focused intently on their tasks rapidly went about lighting oil lamps along the corridor. The servants exchanged quick words when they found a cricket chirping behind one wall-hanging and dusted the offending insect to the floor before silencing it with a well-placed boot.

Feet scuffing the floor runner, Duvella came hurrying toward the kitchen. The young woman's green-gray eyes looked weary, but had regained some of their cheer. "A fine evening to be out," her wide smile revealed her prominent teeth when she saw Sildane.

"A fine evening," Sildane groaned and wanted to hide her head.

"I was looking for you! We have more time free than usual," Duvella told her, "I thought about taking a walk to skirt the warder's practice yard, though you might get in trouble for that."

"I would get in plenty of trouble for that," Sildane agreed. Despite the difference in their ages and the status gap between novice and Accepted, she had made friends with Duvella. The homely young woman was one of very few people she could talk to without worrying about what she was saying.

Duvella laughed, "It certainly won't be forever. Take heart!" She passed Sildane a note scratched on a torn corner of parchment and hurried off along the corridor without a backward glance.

Passing notes had become their main mode of communication in their duty with Ghedlyn, since they often had been unable to spend time in the dungeon cell together, but still needed to coordinate their efforts.

With a sigh, Sildane opened the folded sheet and found Meilyn Sedai's neat script. _Need an extra two hours_, the note said, _use it as you will_.

Something similar had occurred several nights before and twice the previous week, so Sildane was beginning to get used to it. She did not take it as a pronouncement that she was "free" as much as a tacit insinuation that she should use her extra time on her studies. Many of the younger novices, who were all older than Sildane, did not put in as much effort as she did --but with nearly everyone set against her, she lacked any room to play games. She would not risk her current probation deepening.

Sildane wished for home. She wished she could go back to her mother pestering her about farm chores. While everyone at the farm was a Tower servant, the atmosphere had been so much less formal and so much more congenial. She missed working to tidy spare rooms with the house women when guests came to call. She wished for the clang of Master Tempedan's forge and for Alibet's teasing. She wanted to go on another trip to the stream with Ghedlyn, just the two of them, to hunt for frogs. She missed singing in the evenings when Nordel brought out his harp. More than anything, she regretted the loss of Rayanne Sedai's patient hand. She had not seen her patron Aes Sedai for weeks.

She sniffed and dabbed her eyes, then steeled herself for the challenge ahead. She pushed from the wall and started away from the kitchen.

The Tower never exactly quieted as day lapsed into night, but the people in the corridors changed character. As the sky became dark, servants began to focus on dusting and scrubbing what had not been cleaned by novices earlier. Sildane made her way quietly through the white marble corridors, not exactly dallying, but certainly not hurrying.

Her mistakes that first day had not only affected channeling women. Many servants would glance up as she went past and more than a few followed her with hooded faces, as if waiting for her to do something reckless that would give them cause to trounce on her. Because of when she first arrived at the Tower, some of the rumors swirling around her misfortune had been conflated with the Yellow Ajah's attempts to find Ghedlyn in the city. Some people honestly believed that Sildane had fled from the Tower after she assaulted Latel Sedai and that the Yellow Ajah had turned out its warders to find _her_ instead of Ghedlyn. Even a few Aes Sedai--including Yellows--eyed her crosswise. Sildane was happy that the misunderstanding helped to protect Ghedlyn, but wished she weren't the focus in her friend's stead.

At the very least, not so many younger girls were in the corridors at this time of the evening and Sildane picked a roundabout path toward the wing which housed the novice quarters. She was becoming more skilled at navigating the twisted passages and had been deliberately seeking out unusual paths to reach her destinations in order to avoid anyone who might know her. She stiffened whenever she heard girls' voices as she walked and sometimes took the nearest cross-corridor to avoid anyone in a white dress. She had gotten lost many times and seen many new passages, though she more and more frequently happened onto places she recognized. Both of the great circular wells that housed of the novice quarters could be entered at multiple levels, which came in handy once she learned the entries most frequented by other novices.

She paused at a cross-corridor when she heard girlish voices, then quickly stepped back. Brazier lamps cast a fickle glow in the shadowed doorway where she waited for the other novices to pass. She sighed for maybe the seventeenth time as three white skirted girls skipped by and did not move until their sounds retreated.

When she set out again, mindful of the tapping of her feet, she found a wide spiral staircase and climbed upward two levels. Mostly servants used these stairs since many of the rooms above were for storing countless odd ends. The shadowed hallways breathed with quiet and smelled musty since the rooms usually remained locked tight. Once off the beaten path, the vastness of the White Tower made the place feel almost deserted. Sildane had found something to appreciate on this particular level since the wide corridor terminated onto a gallery of the novice apartments that was uninhabited. When she reached the end, the hall opened out into the circular well and overlooked the small garden many levels down.

A gentle touch of breeze gasped into the cylindrical housing, flicking Sildane's dress. The night looked clear and the moon's face was more than half full where it crept into view over the rim of the building, casting weak shadows along the walkway that circled this level of the gigantic complex. A few girls could be seen out in the garden down below, murmuring amiable chatter, but none wandered at the level where Sildane entered--thankfully.

She padded the marble walk opposite the railing that guarded empty space with her shoulder nearly brushing the apartment doors she passed. When she walked so close to the wall, the carved railing and the path itself afforded her some protection from the eyes of people on lower levels. A single, steep, narrow flight of stone-cut stairs without a railing broke from the walkway and crossed downward at an angle through each successive gallery level in a spiral that circled all the way down to the garden, so that girls could move from one level to the next without exiting the apartments. Sildane liked this stair since her room was very near to it several levels below. She only really exposed herself when she crossed downward to reach her tiny room. As had become her custom, she paused long enough to look up and down the stair to make certain she would meet no one going or coming before she raced quickly down.

Her heart was beating hard with anxiety and warmth came to her face. She felt embarrassed, self-conscious and comforted all at once.

On the level of her room, a girl left one doorway and entered another several apartments down, but did not look Sildane's way. That novice seemed older; she had not been in any of Sildane's lessons. Sildane felt thankful at so far going unnoticed.

She drew up short.

A girl sat on the walk with her back pressed against Sildane's door, waiting. She rested with her knees drawn in against her chest and her face hidden in her dress.

Sildane crept forward, "...Tindyl?"

The girl startled, her round, moon-like countenance tipping up sharply. In the brazier glow and moonlight, Sildane could see that the other girl's face was swollen and red from crying. Sildane frowned. Tindyl seemed able to brazen her way through anything and had stolidly faced teasing herself to take some of the pressure off Sildane during their classes together: to see her crying was totally uncharacteristic.

"Sildane!" Tindyl blurted and struggled to her feet. She hastily wiped her eyes and straightened her dress, "I'm so happy you're here..."

Sildane had been wary to be close to the girl because of how insistent Tindyl had become about channeling and because of how little real ability Sildane thought she had. Sildane liked the girl and did not want to be the one to tell her she probably would never be very skilled if she ever learned anything at all.

"What's wrong?" Sildane asked, trying to decide if there was any easy way to get around Tindyl without hurting her feelings. She was very tired and knew she had a lot of work yet to do.

"I-... uhh..." Tindyl fumbled. She fiddled with the sleeves of her dress, "Um, can we talk inside, please?"

Sildane glanced around, trying to decide if she had any time for this. Of course, she had been putting Tindyl off for several weeks in addition to trying to keep clear of everyone else. Avoiding the moon-faced girl embarrassed her since Tindyl had taken it upon herself to help defend Sildane's pride, but the other girl's intensity still frightened her. Taking a deep breath, Sildane finally nodded, "I can't talk for too long."

"Thank you, thank you," Tindyl said eagerly, bowing her head several times. She positively beamed.

Sildane clicked the latch on her door and pushed it open, gesturing Tindyl in.

"Oh my..." Tindyl said as she preceded her host.

Sildane already knew what she would find and merely rolled her eyes.

In the dimness, they could both see that Sildane's tiny room had been ransacked. Her few Tower provisioned belongings had been upset and strewn about. Someone had even overturned her pallet and thrown her sheets into an amorphous pile on the opposite side of the room.

"Oh Sildane," Tindyl groaned, putting both of her hands on her heart.

With a shrug, Sildane retrieved a coal from her miniature fireplace and used it to light her oil lamp. Once the lamp was set back into its holder, Sildane nodded to Tindyl, "Come in."

"I can't believe they did this," Tindyl breathed.

"Please close the door," Sildane said as she retrieved her sheets and righted her pallet.

"Have you talked to Latel Sedai?" the moon-faced girl asked.

"What will she do?" Sildane mumbled while she dusted off her other white dresses and restored them to the pegs by her little shelf. "Will she punish all the novices?"

"But look at this," Tindyl held up a scroll that had ink spilled all over it. "You can't do your work like this."

Sildane shrugged again and actually found herself smiling a bit as she took the ruined scroll from Tindyl, "This one's actually a week old. If I tear the ruined piece off and spend a moment to write something else that looks important on it, they've been quite willing to ruin this in place of what's actually important to me."

"I- I hadn't thought of that," Tindyl scratched her head quizzically. She watched Sildane stoop and work loose a stone on the hearth of her little fireplace.

Sildane retrieved several parchment scrolls from the hiding spot and quickly checked that they were as she had left them. She then fit the stone back into its hole.

"They should not be doing pranks like this," Tindyl stamped her foot in a righteous anger.

"These are hardly my things yet," Sildane said softly as she replaced the few belongings that went atop her tiny desk. "I have not been in the Tower long enough for any of this to really belong to me. I just want to let it go."

"You should do something to get back at them," Tindyl insisted.

Sildane shook her head, "I have done enough already. I do not need to be in more trouble with sisters. Latel would happily paddle me dusk to dawn as it is, I think. I just want to let it go."

"But they'll never let it go," Tindyl came to stand over by Sildane, and then deposited herself on Sildane's pallet in a huff.

"Maybe," Sildane conceded, still wanting just to hide, "but only after things are better with the Mistress of Novices first. Tindyl," not wanting to think about her troubles, she abruptly changed the subject, "why are you here?"

Tindyl's round face fell and her shoulders slumped, "I- I- " she swallowed hard.

The look of horror on the other girl's face took Sildane aback. Tindyl looked like she was about to start crying again.

"What is it?" Sildane asked, moving to sit on the pallet beside her.

"I heard Verin Sedai telling Latel Sedai that she didn't think I would ever be able to channel and that I should be retested before they decided what best to do with me." In a rush of words, she described standing at Latel Sedai's office door and overhearing the two Aes Sedai's conversation.

Sildane allowed her eyebrows to knit as she listened to the story.

"I don't know what I can do if they decide to put me out of the Tower," Tindyl wept. "I have to learn something, or I'm finished here! Please help me Sildane!"

"I..." For a long moment Sildane could just sit. She pressed her eyes closed and felt with her mind at that part of the girl sitting next to her which contained... kinship? Since her revelation of these sensations that first day she had taken instruction from Verin Sedai, Sildane had been unable to set of words on the sense. She could feel the strength of channeling women around her, feel how she measured against them and even, to some extent, feel what strengths they had in each of the different five powers. Next to Ghedlyn, Sildane knew she was nothing, but it became quickly apparent to her that other novice girls could not make this same evaluation.

Tindyl only ever seemed to have a thread of ability in her, if that. Some of the other novice girls who could channel or were nearly able seemed weak, but stronger than the vacancy in the moon-faced girl.

"You've only been here a little longer than me," Sildane finally exclaimed, "and it takes most girls years to get to the point of being able to control their ability to use the source. You have yet to really learn anything."

"But they don't think I should even be trying!" Tindyl choked, tears streaming down her face. "They're going to put me out. Please help me!"

Sildane felt again at the tiny pinprick of ability that defined how far Tindyl could go. She contemplated. It felt like a hot little spark, like a nascent flame in need of fanning, but with no tinder to burn through.

_How did I feel to Ghedlyn that first night when we worked together?_ Sildane wondered, _How did Rayanne Sedai know what I would be able to do? What does the spark feel like?_

"Please, Sildane," Tindyl begged. She slipped off the pallet and settled on her knees, her hands clasped together, "Please."

Sildane could only feel the apathetic lack in the girl begging her. "I really shouldn't be the one teaching you..."

"But you're all I have," Tindyl said, "You are my only hope."

"Please don't ask me," Sildane responded in a high-pitched voice.

Tindyl shook her head, "I'm sorry, but please. If I just can't, I swear under the Light I will not blame you for it. But, I do not want to be sent away from the Tower yet. If you help me, I swear I'll do everything I can to help you!"

"I... fine," Sildane yielded, "I'll do what I can."

"Thank you!" Tindyl jumped up and caught Sildane in a flying embrace. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you Sildane. I promise I'll do my very best!"

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Sildane wondered.


	60. Book 4: Chapter 4

"It was stupid," Sildane complained, half to hear herself say the words. "I should have just refused. Any kind of excuse would have been the right excuse. I can't do it."

Standing across from Sildane in the dimly lit corridor cut through the foundations of the White Tower, Duvella settled her back against the stone wall, crossed her arms and frowned in thought. She and Sildane were waiting for Meilyn Sedai to finish yet another day with Ghedlyn. "It is dangerous. Novices can get in spectacular trouble for practicing channeling without guidance. I wish you had said something to me when she asked you."

Sildane sat on the floor looking up at the young woman, "I was afraid to say anything. Duvella, I can't get in more trouble. After everything that went wrong when I first got here, things have just started to get better. If I get in trouble for this, I'll be doing extra chores forever."

"How many times have you worked with her?" Duvella asked.

"Only six," Sildane shook her head and hugged her knees, "I just helped with breathing and focusing. She's calmed down some, but I don't know if I can really teach her. Her ability feels very weak to me. And if we get caught, Latel will lock me in one of these dungeons."

"Tindyl made a smart choice," Duvella told her, "you are the one novice here who is in a position to teach her something."

"But I don't know anything," Sildane protested, "and I'm not that strong. It will be years before I'm strong enough to do any really useful weaves."

"Hmm," Duvella turned to pace the corridor, her banded dress casting fluid shadows in the torch light. "You could get in a great deal of trouble if you are caught, but that isn't to say that novices don't sneak practice at channeling all the time anyway. I did it. I know others who have. The Aes Sedai do catch violators now and then, but it's not terribly uncommon. They punish you, but not one of their really really bad punishments. Usually, at least."

"I know that," Sildane breathed, "but it shouldn't be me. I've been in so much trouble as it is."

Duvella stopped pacing and came to seat herself beside Sildane. She straightened her dress, "I appreciate Tindyl's situation," she said, "Everyone has some frustration with channeling at some point. Most of the girls come here wanting to become Aes Sedai without the slightest ability, and even the strongest Aes Sedai started as a novice who didn't know how to channel. Your position is different from Tindyl's because the Aes Sedai already know that you can reach _saidar_. The only way you'll leave the Tower is if you fail at one of your tests, and not before. The sisters will hammer at you until you either fold under the pressure or become an Aes Sedai. I think many of the novice girls probably already know that about you, and some are jealous. On the other hand, Tindyl is probably one of those cases who are right at the edge, where she might be able to learn something, but might also have no ability to begin with. If she fights with everything she has, maybe she will hold on for a month or two more."

"I don't want to have to tell her that she can't learn anything," Sildane replied.

Duvella shook her head, "Do you think she can't learn anything?"

"I really do not know," Sildane shrugged. "If there is anything there, it is really very small."

"Well," Duvella altered her tact, "what is the difference between a girl who can and a girl who can't?"

It was Sildane's turn to carefully consider her answer. She again shrugged and said, "I can just feel it from the Aes Sedai. I can feel it from some of the other novices. It just is. I don't know how to explain it."

Duvella's chiming giggle contrasted starkly with her plain appearance, "_I_ can't make that judgement and I've been in the Tower a lot longer than you have."

Sildane's face warmed, "I said I couldn't explain it."

"But, are you judging based upon what a girl is capable of doing her whole life or what she's capable of _right now_?" Duvella asked. She touched Sildane's shoulder, "Maybe she can become more than a farmwife someday. Listen, Aes Sedai will allow Accepted to tutor novices on channeling. If I'm around, you won't get in trouble."

Sildane snorted, "Why don't you just teach her directly then? Cut out the middle step."

Shaking her head, Duvella giggled. She sounded like a conspiratorial little girl, "Sildane, you learned from _her_," she jerked her thumb at the closed cell door. "You may not notice it, but you channel differently from other women. You do not weave the way an Aes Sedai does, but you still have an unusual dexterity at it. You started from a different place, neither a wilder, nor a novice. Call me selfish, but Tindyl isn't the only one who wants to know what Ghedlyn knows."

"Tindyl doesn't know Ghedlyn," Sildane protested.

"But she knows _you_. And Ghedlyn left her mark on you," Duvella told her. "Come on, you've been channeling, what? A year? Girls do not learn that fast."

"But I keep telling you, I don't know anything!" Sildane repeated yet again.

"You knew enough to humiliate Latel," Duvella exclaimed.

Sildane sighed, "Please don't remind me about that."

"Just give it a try," Duvella patted her on the shoulder, "We'll form a study group, find a nice quiet place somewhere around the White Tower where no one will bother us and you can teach us what Ghedlyn taught you. That way, Tindyl gets what she wants, I get what I want and you won't get in trouble for it."

"I don't understand most of what comes out of Ghedlyn," Sildane admitted.

Duvella was easily ten years older than her, but the young woman's expression was almost gleeful, "If you have problems, I can definitely help teach Tindyl. It won't just be you teaching both of us. Think of it as a free exchange of information where all parties have an opportunity to see something strange and new. Hey, I can even teach you if we find something you need work on."

Sildane glanced at the young woman with disbelief. Most of the other Accepted she had met wore an air midway between normal women and Aes Sedai, as if they were doing their very best to impersonate a sister. Duvella, however friendly, fluctuated from serene and impenetrable to chatty-as-a-milkmaid almost as quickly as she could start a new sentence. The two of them got along well, but Sildane sometimes worried how much she was being manipulated--was Duvella really so friendly?

Trying to keep her breathing slow, Sildane said, "But, I don't know how much we can tell Tindyl about where I learned anything. I'm still not supposed to talk about Ghedlyn. If you're with me, she is bound to wonder why I'm teaching and not you."

"If I help with..." Duvella cut off.

The steel banded dungeon cell door squeaked open and the tall, silver-haired Aes Sedai emerged.

Sildane and Duvella both scrambled to their feet, dusting their dresses and hurrying to make a courteous leg. Sildane felt her face flush bright red and hoped the sharp-eyed Aes Sedai did not notice.

Meilyn Sedai seemed distracted for a moment, unusual for her, then said simply, "When one hears a conversation end so very abruptly, one might logically make many deductions. My suggestion is that whatever conspiracy you children are planning, you keep it as minor as possible."

"Aes Sedai, we were just..." Duvella began, still stooped in her curtsy.

"I've seen enough girls in my time to understand the rhythm these discussions take," Meilyn Sedai interrupted calmly. "You _are_ an Accepted, Duvella, just be certain not to raise or lower yourself beyond your earned place. I do not wish to hear the details of what the two of you were considering. I ask only that you weigh the scope of the situation before you make any foolhardy actions."

The stately Aes Sedai floated off upon her last words, hardly deigning to spend further attention on the Accepted or novice. Sildane and Duvella recovered from their curtsies only after the imposing woman had disappeared into the darkness of the barely-lit spaces.

"I suppose that answers that," Sildane said quietly.

"Sildane," Duvella smiled wickedly, "she never said _not_ to do anything."

"But if she knows we're up to something..." Sildane protested.

Duvella paused as she opened the heavy door into their shared quarters. "That woman has better things to do than to worry what we're up to. Besides, she's the last person in the Tower who can possibly fake disinterest in Ghedlyn's skills."

Sildane shook her head and followed the plain young woman into the cell. She had to admit that sitting in the hallway waiting for Meilyn to finish night after night made the situation very clear.

Ghedlyn was sitting on her pallet reading a parchment sheet in the light of the oil lamp when Sildane entered. The corner of the rock-sided chamber nearest her bed had been set aside for an accumulating pile of papers, which only ever increased when Meilyn appeared. Ghedlyn looked utterly wiped out, with bags beneath her onyx eyes and her silky hair more dissheveled than usual. That Sildane knew she had not actually left the cell for several weeks and her arms were becoming more skinny. Her distant eyes flicked past Duvella and Sildane when they entered, which could sometimes be her clearest gesture of cognizance-- though Sildane knew better than to doubt her awareness. For once, the black-haired girl wore in a fresh white novice dress.

Duvella had stopped in her tracks, "I don't believe it."

Sildane glanced at her, "What are you...?"

Pointedly not looking at the girls who had just entered, Ghedlyn's mouth was quirked in a line that approached a smile. Her weary face was almost smug. "Sildane," she chirped, "when hungry, what food in the Tower is there is when hungry, Sildane?"

"Ghed?" Sildane glanced toward her away from Duvella.

"How are you doing that?" Duvella demanded of the girl, betraying utter disbelief.

Half hiding behind the sheet of parchment, one of Ghedlyn's big eyes crept into view around the side, directed at Sildane. "Tower has much food, Meilyn Sedai says... for hungry girls like unhungry girls and Aes Sedai. Can eat all hours when hungry, she says."

"Are you hungry, Ghed?" Sildane went to sit down next to her friend.

Only after she sat down did she realize that she could barely feel the other girl's channeling ability.

Ghedlyn felt weak! Her vast strength was a trickle of its usual depth. She was even weaker than Sildane!

"By the Creator!" Sildane gaped. "Are you all right, Ghed? Did you burn yourself out?"

Ghedlyn shifted the paper coyly, moving it as if to hide behind it. "Lie without lying," her singsong notes chirped, "hide without hiding. Meilyn said. Become small to be safe."

Sildane finally understood, "You learned a weave to hide your strength?"

"Small, binary flow inverted with tetragonal symmetry," Ghedlyn nodded.

"That is something you will have to teach me," Duvella exclaimed in awe as she came to seat herself on the other side of Ghedlyn.

"Not to be taught," Ghedlyn declared, "small secret. Do not tell, Duvella, please."

Sildane could hardly believe it. She could not see a weave of any sort. Her friend felt so weak, maybe just barely stronger than Tindyl.

Tindyl.

What really did divide a woman from being able to channel or not? Sildane began to wonder about the truth. What if Tindyl got sent away before she had the chance to grow into anything? At that instant, Sildane could swear that Ghedlyn would barely ever have the ability to do so much as light a candle, even though she knew better.

"What if she's the opposite of Ghedlyn?" Sildane said aloud.

"What if who's the opposite of what?" Duvella asked.

"What opposite of what?" Ghedlyn held the paper up high enough to look out from beneath it.

Sildane shook her head, "If big can become really small, why can't small become big?"

"You mean with Tindyl?" Duvella said.

"Tindyl is who?" Ghedlyn asked.

"I just don't know," Sildane shrugged, "she feels so small."

"Small is relative," Ghedlyn volunteered, "To smaller, small looks big."

"I think you should listen to Ghedlyn," Duvella laughed, "Light only knows how good her mind is."

Sildane was about to say more, but Ghedlyn put aside the parchment and stood, "Is there food, Sildane? Sildane, my stomach is empty." In an unusual gesture of physical contact, she grabbed her friend's hand and attempted to pull Sildane to her feet.

"We cannot take you out of here," Sildane tried to remind her. "People are not supposed to know about you. We will bring you food."

"Meilyn Sedai says with the secret that I can eat with the novices when I am hungry. She said to surprise you, Sildane, are you surprised?" Ghedlyn told her happily. "I want to see the dining hall, I want."

"I'm very surprised, Ghed. You can leave the dungeon now?" Sildane reluctantly got to her feet.

Her eyes never quite meeting those of the other two girls, Ghedlyn gave an awkward shrug, "Only wearing the weave. Only if I keep from talking, Meilyn says my words are too odd for most girls to understand, she says."

"That would be an understatement," Duvella replied, but got happily to her feet. "But it gets you out of this dreary cell."

"Am so hungry," Ghedlyn reminded them, trying to tug Sildane toward the door.

Shaking her head one last time in amazement, Sildane said, "Let's go eat something, then."


	61. Book 4: Chapter 5

"Here," Tavis turned into a worn passage between shop-fronts. The transition from bustling city to seamy underside occurred almost at the first shadow, as if the light of the day pushed back the undesirables.

Nordel loosened his straight sword at his hip and checked his riding gloves. The non-descript cloak which had replaced his color-shifting garment helped him blend with the longshoremen, tavern wenches and miscellaneous streetpads who laughed and whispered and scuffled in the drafts of steam that emanated from the open sewers. He scanned the path ahead with care, following as Tavis led the way into tighter, smellier spaces. Nordel stared down a grungy youngster who appraised him too closely, silently promising to remove any questing hands that came too close. He kept only a slight awareness on that tiny corner of his mind occupied by Rayanne since she was in the company of Kerene's warders and far better protected than he could accomplish alone. Rayanne still seethed, but had finally conceded to the necessity of being left behind. She was not happy about it, but a Yellow did not belong on this particular errand.

Wearing rundown clothing and walking with a slight gimp, Tavis somehow converted himself into a local. Pickpockets didn't even bother to eye him. The younger man navigated the warren with practiced ease, turning up one shadowy corridor, then into another that seemed mostly blocked with piled refuse.

Nordel managed to sidestep the stream from a chamber pot upended through a window high over his head and tucked his cloak more closely around his body to defend against the splatter. A woman shouted profanities and earthenware crashed. A stray dog of ruddy brown color lifted his leg to mark a doorframe, then growled and scampered when Tavis and Nordel came too close.

Tavis checked each different building front they passed, touching places on crumbling facades or glancing momentarily through windows. He seemed to be looking for something in particular, though exactly what he kept to himself. Nordel merely followed along, sword ready to leap free of its scabbard in a heartbeat.

"Here," the younger man grunted and turned into a doorway. Nordel followed closely at his heel, amazed again at the plasticity of his companion's character. They swept purposefully up a poorly lit hallway before mounting two flights of decrepit stairs. The door Tavis finally halted at was marked condemned with a charcoal symbol by the Tower guard and firmly closed. Far off, feet could be heard pounding down the hallway of another floor. Tavis knocked several times, paused, then knocked again. Nordel stood by with his hand on the pommel of his sword. After a tense moment, someone tapped thrice on the inside of the door, which caused Tavis to relax slightly.

The door opened silently on bound hinges to admit them both. Nordel put back his hood as they entered. A single oil lamp lit the space from a crooked stool--the room's sole furnishing. The windows were boarded over to block views from outside. Several burly men with swords and axes glanced up at the newcomers and then returned to their idle game of dice; Nordel recognized Tower guardsmen in plain clothes. He also recognized the young warder who greeted them after closing the door.

"We heard you would be along soon," Andro said, "we will be arranging to move again, but not quite yet. Remember, no names here..."

"Where is he?" Tavis asked in a cool, business-like tone.

Andro gestured, and then lifted the oil lamp from the stool. He went across to another door on the other side of the chamber, then set down the lamp and donned his own cloak. Noticing the direction the young warder had taken, the other men in the room quickly began to pull up their cloak hoods. With a suffering sigh, Nordel lifted his own hood to cover again his shaven crown; it had been such a relief when they came in to get the scratchy, low quality wool away from his hairless pate.

The young warder unbarred the door and then stooped to retrieve the lamp. He pushed into the next room. Tavis and Nordel both followed him. Nordel reflexively placed his hand on the grip of his sword.

Like the main room, the smaller had its windows completely covered so that it might have been either day or night outside to exactly the same effect. A naked man hung in the remnant of a bed frame, propped so that he drooped forward toward the wall. If Nordel had ever seen this fellow before, he would never have been able to tell. In the garish lantern light, the man appeared constructed of a mass of colored welts. His hands were purple-black from the too-tight cords binding him to the bed frame and his toes were badly swelled and turning dark. His nose had been broken at least once and his eyes and face were disfigured such that who he had been might now be forever lost.

His years spent working for a Yellow caught up with Nordel quickly, but the pragmatics of the situation restricted him to setting his jaw. He had been prepared for the worst and had seen worse than this in another life. He was happy Rayanne was elsewhere.

"There you have it," Andro said, "We are milking information from him slowly. His jaw is surprisingly strong, but our persuasion is beginning to yield up trinkets. With some luck, he will become more... pliant... before we start removing parts he cares about."

"How reliable?" Tavis asked.

In the shadow of his hood, Andro made a frustrated face, but managed to keep it from his words, "You know how these things are. A man will squeal for mercy and tell you anything and everything he thinks you want to hear, whether it is true or not. He knows a few important names that my men could not have spoken even on accident, which is interesting by itself, but not yet telling. You have read the full account?"

"I have," Tavis exclaimed shortly.

"As have others," Nordel added.

"The interpretation is not for me," Andro shrugged, "I only wish to find him contradicting himself, which has happened more than once."

They all three looked at the beaten man in silence. Tavis had crossed his arms and stood thinking. Andro seemed exhausted by this duty, though determined to persist and give results. Nordel knew very well that the silence was significant: what they said directly in front of this man could cost them time and effort later. The man suspended from the bed frame made no movement while they watched, though his chest expanded and contracted in painful heaves from time to time.

Putting a finger to his lip, Andro lifted the light and gestured for the door. They exited and left the room dark. Once the door was barred, Andro doffed his cloak and set the light aside. For fear of having to repeat becoming accustomed to the itchiness, Nordel simply kept his cloak hood raised.

"How much does he hear through that door?" Tavis asked.

"We checked it when we moved in and likely not so much, but I would assume some. The walls are tissue in this building," Andro answered with a shake of his head. "We must take pains with our questioning to keep the neighbors from noticing. People squabble and fight in this place, but too much and too directed will draw attention. As I mentioned, I have someone out looking for a more deserted hiding place so that we can put him to the question a bit more vigorously. It would be convenient if we weren't restricted to staying out here in the city. I know better dungeons than this..."

"Do you think it's true," Tavis began slowly, "that this man is actually a dark friend?"

Andro hesitated, "He spins stories like a master. He knows things that are important to us which we could not have told him. I believe he is a cool, calculating and cautious thinker and I don't believe the exact truth is about to come out of him soon. I think he's teasing us with whatever his loyalties actually are. If he tells me he is a dark friend, I'm not a bit surprised to hear it, but I can't know whether or not he means it once he deliberately contradicts himself a day later. I worry about who else we're facing if a man like this has friends already inside the White Tower. What we said in front of him just now will hopefully make him think hard that he has a whole world of us about ready to come down on him. Even so, he is a difficult customer."

"And we can't exactly leap at every shadow that he puts forward without making a display for whoever is watching," Nordel said. "They have to know we've taken him by now. Having this man may be as much a curse as otherwise. Light."

"No," Tavis exclaimed quietly, "finding this man was a blessing. Because he exists and because of what information is in his head, we can be certain of the depth of the opposition, that those who have been trying to kill the child are truly serious and dangerous. And, we have to be certain that there is a leak on our side somewhere."

"Rayanne already believed that," Nordel said.

"Watch out for names," Andro hissed, "if he hears it, you'll make my job twice as hard."

Nordel breathed a sigh, but did not defend himself.

"In that man's head," Tavis said, "there is some link back to our enemy. If we can dig out that thread, the opposition will become vulnerable."

"I don't doubt that the thread is there," Andro replied, "I simply wish there were some easy way to know we've found it."

"All it takes is time," Tavis reminded the other man. "Eventually, everyone breaks. Just keep me appraised when you move."

Andro nodded, "The usual means?"

"Of course," Tavis said.

When they left the building, they went a different route from how they came in. Nordel found himself lost in thought. They were already several streets away from the safe house when he decided to speak, "It takes time, you say. What will we do if they make another move before we can decide what this fellow is hiding?"

"We hope the protection of the Tower is enough to keep the child shielded for the moment."


	62. Book 4: Chapter 6

"You're still breathing strangely," Sildane told Tindyl. "Remember what we worked so hard to fix the last time?"

They sat facing each other with Duvella perched on a stool nearby scanning a book and keeping half an eye on the two novices. The stone floor sapped warmth from Sildane's bare legs, but she had given her cushion over to help comfort the moon-faced girl, who was having more trouble than usual putting simple distractions out of her mind. Tindyl's eyes shifted nervously toward their Accepted minder until Sildane snapped her fingers in front of the girl's face.

"If you aren't focused," Sildane said, "there's no way you'll be able to reach the source."

"I tell you I almost felt it there," Tindyl insisted, clapping her palms to her cheeks and breathing in and out several times sharply.

"You can't have felt it," Sildane scowled in frustration, "You're nowhere near focused enough. You haven't even brought your breathing under control."

"I'm sure I might've felt something." Tindyl managed to park her twitchy hands back in her lap. "Sort of warm and fuzzy, maybe. I don't know. I'm sure there was something."

"Of course you feel warm: you're flushed like you just ran three laps around the Tower," Sildane shook her head. "If you don't relax when you're doing this, you might pop that vein in your temple."

Duvella laughed, "If you have any doubt that you touched it, you didn't touch it." She had not stopped reading.

"Well..." Tindyl sighed.

"She's right," Sildane said, trying to wrestle down her frustration. The other girl just didn't seem to be listening to her. Maybe including Duvella was too intimidating. "Feeling it that first time is life changing. You can't have felt it."

"You said it was sort of warm and welcoming. I felt warm; I don't know what you mean by welcoming."

Sildane ran her fingers through her brassy curls, wanting badly to tear her hair out and not interested in letting the older girl know it. "We're just starting off today and since you're not near to touching the source, you need to start at the beginning. Remember what Verin Sedai says during the lessons? You have to be in the right frame of mind to surrender to _saidar_, and not merely telling yourself that you are."

Tindyl nodded vaguely, a flash of uncertainty and confusion fogging her usually bright blue eyes. "I think I see," she muttered, making it perfectly obvious that she didn't.

"Let's start with the breathing again," Sildane straightened her back and cupped her hands in her lap.

"I will try. I will try," Tindyl furrowed her brow, tucked her chin and tried to imitate Sildane's posture. She pointedly did not look toward Duvella.

"Let's go back to what we did last time again," Sildane said, closing her eyes. "Ignore the visualizations for now. Touch your tongue at the roof of your mouth and think of the air making a circuit through your whole body as you breathe it in. Take in through your nose slowly and pull it all the way down to your feet." She more or less repeated what Rayanne Sedai had said to her oh so long ago. "Since it helps to control your breath, count to five while you breathe in and again as you breathe out."

She found herself wondering when it had become so much more effortless. She inhaled and opened and allowed the wash of light to shine down into the recesses of her being. _Saidar_ filled her in a surge that she wished could go on forever, drawing more and more deeply until she burst apart in a flash of light. Brimming with the radiance of the one power, she finally held off at the verge where drawing deeper would burn her out for good. How had it become so easy?

A sharp clap caused her to jump and _saidar_ guttered like a candle in the wind, slipping free of her embrace.

Duvella had set her book in her lap and, with a smile on her homely face, clapped her hands together sharply. She had intended to startle both novices, "Not quite yet, Sildane. You need to be able to hold onto it through anything."

"I could have kept it if I'd known you were going to do that," Sildane protested.

"Everybody says the same thing," Duvella gently returned, lifting her book and recovering her page.

Tindyl's eyes were wide with surprise and she pressed a palm against her breast. "You just embraced it and I didn't even see it or feel it or anything. How am I ever going to get it?"

Attention more or less directed into her book, Duvella asked, "How long did it take you to embrace _saidar_ the first time, Sildane?"

Sildane shook her head, "It was more than a week."

Tindyl quailed visibly, "It's been a couple months since I got here..."

"Don't underestimate your ability-a week to go so far is not normal. Headway is usually made in months," Duvella glanced up for a moment, "I'm not even at mastery and I've been here for almost nine years now. The first steps can happen in weeks, but not always. How did _you_ touch it that first time, Sildane?"

Biting her lip, Sildane debated what to tell them. Was Duvella trying to probe Ghedlyn's teaching? She had said she wanted to be involved to learn some of Ghedlyn's technique. Was it right to give this information, especially with Sildane uncertain she could perform it herself? Since Sildane was doing her best to help hide Ghedlyn's ability, when Tindyl finally met the little black-haired girl face-to-face for the first time several days before, she had not known who she had met. Not for the first time, Sildane found herself wishing that Ghedlyn could be a part of these sessions. "Someone... helped... me touch it the first time. I might not have touched it at all."

Tindyl was immediately attentive, "Is it the same as that person you said you would introduce me to a while back?"

"I said what?" Sildane startled.

"You said there was someone that knew more than you that you might be able to introduce me to," Tindyl sat forward, her palms planted on the floor and her eyes bright and wide. "Was it Duvella?"

Duvella's eyes had lifted from her book. She knew the whole story and seemed interested in how Sildane planned to extract herself from the delicate path the conversation had taken.

"I... well... when did I say that?" Sildane asked.

Tindyl nodded, "It was couple days after you got in trouble for channeling at Latel Sedai. You said you knew someone who could help. I thought it might be Duvella since she came with us today."

Sildane had forgotten she said that to Tindyl.

"Oh, I can be helpful," Duvella smiled her uneven smile, "but I doubt I'm who Sildane meant."

"Did your friend Ghedlyn also learn from that person?" Tindyl pressed, "Is that why she's not going to the channeling lessons with Verin Sedai?"

Duvella covered her mouth and appeared to mask a chuckle with a cough.

"Ghedlyn is..." Sildane tried to contort the truth in a way that wouldn't be a flat out lie, "...too young." While many of the other novices had finally met her, the little black-haired girl's fierce adherence to Meilyn Sedai's instruction not to speak around other people made her remarkably nondescript. She wished not for the first time that the stately Aes Sedai allowed Ghedlyn enough freedom to join these sessions, but her demands on Sildane's friend had actually intensified after they were moved out of the dungeon and back to the novice quarters. The other novice girls saw Ghedlyn in passing, but not in any lessons that could reveal Ghedlyn's gift. And certainly none knew that she had already earned the right to wear the serpent ring.

As Sildane opened her mouth to say more, the bell began to toll the noon hour. Feeling her face beginning to flush, Sildane seized the escape, "Oh no, I'm late for the kitchen! I-I-I'll talk to you about it after dinner. I promise! I have to hurry!"

Tindyl's face had fallen while Sildane jumped to her feet and started for the door, "I- I can wait, Sildane."

"I'll help you practice, Tindyl," Duvella closed her book and gave Sildane a twinkling glance as the latter rushed to make her exit. Sildane clapped her hand over her mouth once she got free of the little room and was protected by a closed door.

If only she could just run away and hide; buying time was all she could manage. Duvella really had left most of the teaching to Sildane. Tindyl really did expect something out of her that their Aes Sedai instructors weren't providing.

"What in the Light am I going to do?" she pressed her back against the door and closed her eyes. She didn't know the trick Ghedlyn had used to bring her into contact with the source that first time; the other girl had never used it on her again. Rayanne Sedai had seemed amazed when she finally got the full story from Sildane, but it seemed as though Ghedlyn had taken something Rayanne taught her and... well... changed it. Nothing taught to Ghedlyn ever remained unaltered and Sildane had taken her friend's talent completely for granted.

Frustrated embarrassment warming her face, Sildane did what she could to steady herself and then pushed away from the door. She wished she could wander around for a time to collect her thoughts, but suspected soul-searching would cause more trouble than it solved. She really did have to get back to her chores, though Ballentine usually treated tardiness with some understanding if there were a good reason. Of course, while running from an overly long lesson with an Accepted was a good reason, wandering aimlessly was not. At least while working in the kitchen, no wild demands would be made of her to reproduce acts of channeling genius.

The corridor where they had found a secluded room in which to meet was one of the many storage areas just outside the novice apartments which saw little traffic. It was not a place where novices or Accepted were prohibited, but it saw light enough use as to afford some privacy. Sildane wished she were doing something explicitly against the rules coming to this place since an Aes Sedai might then suddenly swoop down and save her from further humiliation by setting her a steep penance to fill her time in place of pretending to teach. Of course, nothing ever seemed to go according to plan.

Sildane walked the nearly deserted gallery in deep enough contemplation to be unaware of the servants who appeared at intervals.

"I knew I'd bump into you eventually, Sildane."

She startled out of her reverie.

The exclamation had come from a young man in Tower livery who had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He smiled at her coolly, carrying a box of wood scraps beneath his arm.

"Alibet!" Sildane gasped and rushed to give him a quick hug. "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon."

"Happy you forgot about the last thing I said before we parted on the road," Alibet replied.

"Hard to forget about that," Sildane gave a mock scowl and planted her fists on her hips. "But I am happy to see someone from the farm, even if it is just you." Alibet had gained some height since last they met and was looking down on her from even higher now.

"We came to Tar Valon when Rayanne Sedai didn't bring you to Tresgard. You can imagine how furious turtle-girl's pop was," Alibet adjusted the box beneath his arm. "When Dursh took that position as a Chief Clerk, the rest of us with him got stuck in jobs here instead of going back to the farm. I got the delightful choice of being a stable hand or keeping on as a blacksmith's apprentice. You can imagine what I decided to pick! I think some Aes Sedai or another wanted to keep around a few faces turtle-girl recognizes just in case she has one of her fits. Least I get some chance to shoot the breeze at the Warders' practice yard..."

"You really shouldn't be that nasty to Ghedlyn, you know," Sildane patronized. She couldn't decide whether to still think of him as a boy or if this additional height was making him something else.

Alibet shook his head, "She's going to get everybody in serious trouble one of these days. Why I have to be the only one who sees it, the Creator only knows. You should ditch the little witch while you still can."

Sildane swatted his shoulder, "Light! You haven't changed at all!"

"Hate the message, not the messenger," Alibet retorted, turning his body to take the strike at a glancing angle. His shoulder was more solid than Sildane remembered. "Where is turtle-girl, anyway? Didn't figure she would let you out of her sight without throwing a tantrum or two."

Sildane shook her head, "Ghed's been through a lot since you saw her. You would be surprised."

"Probably not," Alibet smirked. "Only been a couple months."

"I mean it." Sildane insisted, "She's done some growing recently..."

"Hard to imagine; I figured she'd still be a knob-kneed little plank..."

Sildane swatted at him again, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Whatever you say," Alibet shrugged and turned to leave, "Some of us have work to get back to. I'm sorry that I can't accept your advances just now, but if you're really nice, I might find the time to fit you in later."

He dodged Sildane's attempt to kick him and waved lightly as he departed.

"In your dreams, you bloody jackass," Sildane cried after him.

She flushed and smoothed her white dress when she realized another servant was watching the exchange. Alibet could be wildly insulting, though his smirk never quite made it seem serious. Loath as she was to admit it, she was happy to see him again.

"Oh light!" she realized she'd been staring at his back while he left and turned to hurry her own way. Ballentine was patient, but that wooden spoon would come down much harder if she learned how Sildane had been wasting the time. She really did not feel like being turned over anyone's knee at the moment.

Thoughts about the session with Tindyl continued to lurk in the back of her mind. She was going to have to decide what to do too soon.


	63. Book 4: Chapter 7

She sat up sharply in the pallet and threw aside her covers. Nothing crawled on her legs. No insects in the sheets despite the panicked sense that something must have been there. Nothing in her shift. She pushed the covers clear off the bedding and checked every nook and cranny around the pallet and every fold of cloth. Nothing to find.

As her breath slowed more toward normal, Ghedlyn sat on the corner of the pallet. She pulled her knees up against her chest and tried to will the tears not to come. The frequency of these nightmares was gradually decreasing, but they had not vanished from her life.

Waking this way in the depths of night left her feeling so vulnerable. Returning to sleep was out of the question. The trip through the Arches made life a very different place, but those horrors were thankfully beginning to dull. What had been nightmares of empty worlds rife with shapeless demons gradually blended together with more natural concerns; older girls staring at her in the halls and mathematical equations that she couldn't quite seem to decompose. Formless monsters now often had adolescent girl laughs and demanded mathematical feats that Meilyn Sedai might have considered excessive- not that the aged Aes Sedai gave Ghedlyn many problems that were tractable even by full sisters currently wearing shawls trimmed in white.

With her face pressed against her knees so that her thigh muscles fit snuggly into her eye sockets and caused her to see roiling colors behind closed eyelids, she took a number or deep, calming breaths. She pointedly did not count them. She had been hesitant about counting ever since the Test and sometimes avoided it just to make certain that she wasn't still somehow inside the Arches and subject to some as yet unrevealed deception. There was a malignant irony somewhere in the idea that she was measuring her world by deliberately avoiding acts of measurement. The incidents inside the Arches had seemed so very real and the associated memories remained a huge afterimage she could not dissipate.

The candle on her small desk had burned down nearly to a nub. She had not been able to bear the dark of the nights when she moved into the tiny novice apartment next door to Sildane. Though she could sometimes stay with Papa in his chamber, the Aes Sedai decided it important to avoid any overt displays of favoritism and insisted that Ghedlyn spend most nights in the Novice quarters. She feared loneliness and felt extraordinarily grateful that Sildane's room was just steps away; her friend had several times come to stay with her and had held her in the dark when the shadows became too threatening.

Though she wished the weather were cold enough to require a fire stoked on her tiny hearth, she settled for the weak light of a candle. Her oil brazier would be too bright, but the lit wick of the tallow candle by itself sufficed. Channeling a bauble of light could easily remedy the problem, but Sildane wanted to avoid getting in more trouble and Meilyn Sedai wanted Ghedlyn to avoid drawing attention. Sildane and Duvella both understood Ghedlyn's antipathy for the dark and gave her what extra candles they could find, making certain that she never had to worry about her stash running low. Ghedlyn suspected that Sildane was sometimes spending nights in the dark as a result. She wished she were as brave as her friend.

Once her shakiness at the harsh awakening receded, Ghedlyn collected a fresh candle from her store and lit it with the flickering flame of the dying nub. She blew out the nub and replaced it in the ceramic holder with the fresh candle.

She carried the candle across the tiny room and set it down on the floor by the wall which her room shared with Sildane's. She had been in the apartment less than a day when she and Sildane discovered the tiny hole joining their rooms at the crook where the wall met the cold marble of the floor. Ages of novices had lived in these rooms, generations even-nearly three thousand years of girls. In those three thousand years, with girls living here twelve years or less before moving on, around three hundred girls had inhabited this room before her. Ghedlyn wasn't certain if there were three hundred novice girls currently in the Tower and probably more than that had laid down right here to cry themselves to sleep. Who could say which of the six hundred girls potentially responsible decided, perhaps two thousand years ago, that she wanted to be able to talk to her neighbor in the middle of the night without risking the wrath of some ancient Mistress of Novices. Suffice it to say, Ghedlyn felt grateful to her.

She wrapped herself in the cover from her bed and lay down on the floor. The marble felt cool to her cheek and the spread of her silky black hair did not provide much insulation. In the tiny pool of candle light, she closed one eye and stared at the miniscule slice of hole with the other. She could not clearly see beyond where the hole receded to darkness, but she thought she could hear her friend breathing.

She opened to the source. The usual clarity of vision was there, but only a trickle of _saidar_ reached her. It was like trying to breathe through a choker or eat with someone standing on her stomach. She was only just beginning to get used to the restriction of the inverted weave she nearly always wore. How could Sildane tolerate so little? She craved more, desired more, but resisted. Despite how uncomfortable the crippling half-shield made her feel, she promised herself to make due: if Sildane got by with this little, she could too. Meilyn Sedai let her remove the half-shield when they were sequestered for study, but she tolerated the limitation otherwise. She understood that her safety depended upon the deception. A trickle was better than none at all.

Ghedlyn debated for a long while whether she wanted to try talking to her friend. If Sildane was asleep, she didn't want to stir the other girl. She lay, staring into the hole, considering how much she wanted to hear her friend's voice. Visions of the nightmare still nipped at the edges of her thoughts, but she did not want to rouse Sildane.

She tried to convince herself that talking this once was not necessary. The argument was a failing one, though she still wanted to let Sildane have her sleep. How could communication be so very important to life? It was the difference between life and death!

She rolled onto her back and blinked her eyes. Communication was such a very complicated thing: Meilyn wanted her mostly to not talk with the other novice girls, but continuously forced her to practice with the few people who knew about her. She recognized the complexity of the situation around her in the Tower and wished desperately that she could spend time learning how to talk to people she didn't know. Still, Meilyn said that to make the falsehood stick without actually lying, she needed behave in a way that prevented people from asking questions.

Stolidly deciding not to wake her friend, she sat up and stretched over to collect a book resting beside her pallet. She would have preferred to work on math, but Meilyn had prohibited her from leaving any in this little room lest servants stumble across it. Again, another weird prohibition about communication! She had spent nearly her entire life wriggling through mathematical problems whenever she felt like it and being told she no longer could was as uncomfortable as the restriction on her channeling. Her fingers itched for it and the problems turned about in her mind anyway, even though she couldn't actually write down the logic. Reading was the only other option so deep into the night.

This book was utterly different from other books she knew and correspondingly intrigued her. The Tower required its novices to learn many things beyond channeling. As one of the women privy to Ghedlyn's secrets, the Mistress of Novices had wasted no time dragging her into novice lessons once it became apparent that Ghedlyn's writing hand was more than sufficient for a girl several years older than her actual age. In those lessons, Latel Sedai taught history, politics, geography and many other topics which Ghedlyn had only rarely encountered. The arithmetic Latel Sedai gave the novice girls was the most boring and simplistic thing Ghedlyn had ever seen, but the rest of the material was actually quite challenging. Rayanne had tried to educate her with some of it, though she had not really comprehended any of it during those times. So much of it hinged upon deciding that groups of communicating people were important to the motions of the world, which was one of the most confusing ideas Ghedlyn had ever considered. Nations did not exist without people talking to other people and making decisions based upon still other people. As far as Ghedlyn could tell, a country was not a thing that physically existed, except in the imaginations of the people who lived there.

Shifting the book until it bathed in the candle light, she played her hand across the cover. _Dynasty of Artur Hawkwing_ talked about a long dead king who forged an empire that spanned much of the land from the Spine of the World west to the Sea of Storms. Such a king ruled over hundreds of thousands of people, affecting nearly countless lives mainly by talking. It seemed like arcane magic. The machinations in Hawkwing's court were bewildering; people wanting and taking and doing so many things based upon notions that were foreign to her. She thought she understood why she needed to learn it, but she still did not have much feel for it.

"Are you awake, Ghed?" came the soft whisper through the hole at the base of the wall.

Ghedlyn dropped the book in a heartbeat and stooped down to the crack, a flush burning into her cheeks. She would get to talk to her friend after all! "Sildane... yes, yes, Sildane, yes. How...?"

"The light in the crack changed," Sildane whispered back, "I knew you moved the candle. Was it another nightmare?" The other girl had seen her suffer quite a few recently.

"Yes," Ghedlyn replied sadly. "Sleep. I do not want sleep."

"Do you want me to come over there?" Sildane asked, "You don't have to be alone, you know."

"But then, you also will not sleep, you won't and I will have caused it again, yes? How many times...?" Ghedlyn protested.

"As many times as is necessary," Sildane interrupted, "You're my family here, Ghed."

"Yes..." Ghedlyn answered, rocking on her knees. Her forehead gently bumped the floor, "no... yes."

"Yes, you want me to come over there or no, not as many times as are necessary? I can come over."

"No," Ghedlyn said after a pause to think, "do not want you not sleeping. My fault again."

"Oh," Sildane giggled, then stifled herself, "don't be so selfish! It isn't your fault right now. I was awake all on my own."

"Why? Sildane?" Ghedlyn chirped in question. She could hardly imagine Sildane's troubles.

"I'm in a mess," Sildane replied, sounding more down than Ghedlyn usually heard from her, "You remember that girl who ate with us when Meilyn let you go early and we had dinner together?"

"That one was Tindyl?" Ghedlyn tried to prevent herself from stumbling over the name.

"Yes, Tindyl," Sildane sighed, "You remember when I told you I was trying to help teach her about channeling?"

"I do remember," Ghedlyn affirmed.

"I've been trying," the other girl said, "I keep trying to teach it to her, but I don't know if I can. How can I teach what to do? And Duvella's looking on like I know something special. I'm thirteen years old, for Light's sake. What do I know about channeling? I'm barely able to do anything on my own."

Ghedlyn swallowed. She didn't see how age could be the issue, "I am twelve, I am."

Sildane coughed sharply, "That doesn't help, you know. You're not like anyone else. I can't compare to you. I don't know the millionth fraction of what you've forgotten! I can't teach like you."

For some reason, a knot formed in Ghedlyn's throat.

"If I could do the least bit of what you can, Tindyl would have some hope. But, I'm just me. And she's letting everything rest on me. If I fail to teach her, it'll be my fault if they ask her to leave the Tower."

Ghedlyn did not understand what she could possibly say. The rift between her and the world her friend inhabited was so insurrmountably huge. The nightmare seemed all the more vivid. Sildane had continued to speak, but Ghedlyn failed to hear her words.

Tears were leaking down her nose and dripping to the stone floor before she knew it. She forced herself not to make a sound. Years spent crying and screaming the instant anything changed in the world around her had been years unaware that she wasn't the only person in existence. Now... now she wanted to not share this misery. She refused to ever have another tantrum, no matter what! But that did not change the fact that no amount of work would ever bring that other world into reach. The living realm where normal girls like Sildane and Tindyl breathed and frollicked was a place she could never know. How many good, positive things would she not experience in this life because she could not cross into that other place? She wanted to see the world from Sildane's eyes and knew that it would never be possible. She had no means of understanding her friend's pain.

Unbreachable loneliness knifed her keenly.

Sildane had stopped talking and Ghedlyn had not realized it.

"Is something wrong?" the other girl asked.

Ghedlyn pawed at her eyes and swallowed hard. She wiped her nose on the hem of her shift rather than allow Sildane to hear her sniffing and snorting. "Fine..." she said at last.

That had been her first full-on lie.

"Are you sure," Sildane asked, "For a moment, I thought you were crying. I can come over if you need it."

"No, fine, no." Ghedlyn insisted.

Sildane sighed, "I wish I could have you along when I'm trying to teach. That way you got me touching the source the first time- if I could do that, maybe there would be some hope."

"You, Sildane, almost touching already. You were!" Ghedlyn seized the futile hope, "You knew how without help. I pushed, not more."

"I think that..." Sildane began.

"The ability was yours, Sildane. It was yours," Ghedlyn repeated, "Did not come from me."

When Sildane did not respond, Ghedlyn opened herself to the source and drew her fill. She felt strangled pulling only so tiny of an amount, but it had to be enough. She wove a couple meager threads of Air and Water and sent them straggling through the crack between their rooms. She felt with the threads around the far side of the hole, touching the floor and walls around the hole. She knew Sildane would not be able to weave without being able to see the structure, but she could play if Ghedlyn gave up her vision.

She spun together a cat's cradle of _saidar_ on feel and waited for Sildane to form the complement. She knew Sildane could not have forgotten this game, even if they hadn't played it since they left the farm for the Tower.

Sildane remained silent.

Ghedlyn unspun and then rewove the cradle, hoping desperately that Sildane would take her part.

"Please, Sildane, please..." she begged.

Through the wall, she finally sensed the pressure of her friend yielding and drinking in the source. When she was hobbled by the half-shield, Sildane was actually noticeably stronger than she.

A tentative loop of Air intertwined with those Ghedlyn offered. She responded by hooking the loop and put forward another loop of her own. Sildane hooked this loop with an extension of her weave and placed yet another open in response. The simple hook and loop pattern went back and forth in turns, Ghedlyn immediately flicking in a new loop each time Sildane picked a response. The other girl was slow to start, but she gradually began to weave quickly enough to keep better pace with Ghedlyn. Once a basic foundation of meshwork was placed, Ghedlyn threw in an improvisation, curving with a strange double loop. Sildane matched it immediately, double hooking with an elegant thread and throwing in her own triple loop. Ghedlyn threw back a cross hook-loop pattern, inviting more challenging plays. Sildane's response was much more deft than she'd ever managed at the farm: her weaving ability was obviously improving and her threads never once wavered as if she were at risk of losing the source.

The combined weaving jumped between turns more and more quickly. Ghedlyn actually began to use a little of her speed, which Sildane found herself pressed to match. Sildane finally gave a giggle. Usually, when Ghedlyn began to turn on her real agility, Sildane would descend into such hard laughter that she inevitably missed her move and caused the entire weave to pop like a wayward soap bubble. This time, Sildane actually managed to hold on.

They went back and forth forming such a convoluted mess that they both were stretched nearly to capacity when Ghedlyn finally reached her limit. She simply was not used to having so little of the one power available.

The missed loop caused the structure to unravel with a gusty pop.

Having performed the entire game on feel alone, Ghedlyn leaned forward until her forehead touched the floor. A breath of cool air through the crack in the wall tickled her ear. She regretfully let go of the source. In the diminished color of the world without _saidar_, she actually thought that maybe she could try again to sleep. Playing games with Sildane seemed like something she had not done in an age. Her friend had dulled the nightmare almost to a shadow. The candle had burned down by a quarter.

"I won," Sildane said in amazement, "I almost never win. If someone stumbled over us playing like that without supervision, we would probably both be in penance forever..." She let the source go. Her exhaustion from playing registered in the ragged edge of her voice.

"I am not the only one who weaves, I am not, Sildane," Ghedlyn murmured to the crack. _I'm not alone_, she did not say.


	64. Book 4: Chapter 8

(Author's note): Who can say whether I will have continuity here. This is my first time back in quite a while and the whole idea is just scratchy. Since I finished Comps, the keyboard has been beckoning, so maybe I'll get some more written. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it. I do not own WOT.

* * *

Renard enjoyed being a villain. He touched his face to feel the clean shaven skin and swore aloud yet again. "Blood and ashes." He had liked that pointy Tiarin beard and missed it dearly. The bloody thing set off his scar and made him look more rakish, more villainous. And, his chin felt cold without it. The beard he could grow again, but the wide-brimmed hat -she didn't have to burn that! It would take forever to find another which produced exactly the same effect. What good being bad without the ability to startle a tavern wench and make her break porcelain with just a grin?

That was the major problem with being a villain, of course. If you were obvious, people could pick you out from a league away, which made the practical pursuit of villainy difficult. Despite the necessity, all this sneaking about made Renard's fingers itch. He wanted to be obvious! How did that old saying go? For the nine perfect parts of a good job, one intolerable part yet remained. Escaping death at the hands of Aes Sedai or White Cloaks prolonged opportunities at villainy, but he hated the hiding part. Not that he liked all these goat suckers who gathered in back rooms to say their oaths and pretend they would get a piece of that eternal pie when the final day came. At heart, Renard didn't really care who won any last battle. That it would be the "last" was kind of stupid, he thought. How "dark" could the Dark One be if he didn't engineer opportunities to fight pointlessly from here until forever? Renard only cared that his affiliations made him villainous, not for any particular cause. He wanted to see it all burn, preferably as soon as he could set the flame. The day he realized he actually liked staring the other guy in the eye the moment his sword went in had been the most liberating of his life. No job better for a fellow happy to kill and who but the Dark One or Great Lord or Shai'tan or whatever you wanted to call him needed a devoted dagger man? Of course, not caring whether he lived or died kept him from ever being part of any useful decisions. All Renard really needed in life was to be directed toward his next victim, that and sleeping and eating and maybe a few bodily functions, but those latter things hardly mattered.

The common room of the inn was fronted by a series of windows looking out onto the street. The cut glass must have cost a pretty mark, but Tar Valoners paid through the snoot for appearances in their curvy Ogier-wrought city. Renard sat at a table toward the far wall, elbow propped leisurely at the window ledge where he had his chair tipped back on two legs so he could put his feet up on a table. Casting many a querulous glance, the fat inn keeper obviously disliked Renard sprawled in his common room, but clearly feared him too much to say a word. This inn was the most recent of a series. He had paid the inn keepers and been pleasant enough, but kept more or less to himself. Being pleasant to people was no fun at all and certainly ranked up there with hiding, but Renard remembered discipline from his time under Aes Sedai thrall. However much he enjoyed it, he could control his zeal on need. Still, he couldn't help taking small pleasure from being at least a little intimidating in some fashion. He almost wished a warder would come through that door and recognize him, but such amusement would put a crimp in keeping a low profile.

Tossing back a slug of apple wine, Renard let his attention meander up and down the street, which he could see quite well through the compound window panes. Common rooms were a great place from which to watch a street during the broadest of daylight if one sat back from the glass several paces or so and had no other windows behind him. Not that he felt like being quite that cautious. A sauntering Tanchican strumpet dressed in a clingy yellow something or other with many thin braids and a veil floating before her face brought his head around in a swivel. Nice rump on that one, something there to really bite into, though she did not move quite so well as a Domani. No matter. With a lick of his lips and an errant caress of his sword hilt, he let her pass out of memory. A vendor leading a pair of shiny coated black horses trundled his cask laden cart up the gently inclined street. Two hired laborers stacking crates in a shop front shouted at a passel of children chasing a hoop. The baker announced fresh buns through her street level window, taking a moment to adjust the kerchief holding back her hair before returning to her bakery. A stocky Shienaran warder with a sword hilt peaking over his shoulder followed a Tower guard in a black tabard stitched with the white flame, a wolf dogging a puppy.

"Hullo, beautiful," Renard swallowed the rest of his drink with a few drips trailing down his chin. He hunted wolves. Not supposed to kill any, now, but hunt yes! He clunked his chair flat to the floor boards and stood. One smile to the inn keeper and a serving girl set both pointedly back to their business. At the door, he flipped on his new hat, not nearly so comfortable as the old if a different color and shape, and tapped his left foot in time to count seconds. Ask a belle to the harvest dance, twitch back the edge of her swishing skirt and smile -what a throat! Then he opened the door and slipped out.

The warder and guard had passed off down the street to his right. Adjusting his dark green cloak to hide the scabbard at his belt, Renard set out after them. Delirious fools, so easy to track, the crowds stepped wide to give them space. An idiot and his color-shifting cloak. Renard had been happy to doff his forever: they were usually only good when there weren't any people about to kill.

Nice day! No clouds save those at the tip of the Dragonmount and a steady stream of summer mist wafting from the Erinin. Renard nabbed an apple off a produce cart in front of a shop as he walked. The shop keeper's head turned presented an opportunity he just could not resist. He sidled along a line of shop fronts, taking only a single bite before he decided he really wasn't so hungry after all and deposited the fruit among pears on another vendor's cart. This vendor glared at him, but thought better about having words when Renard smiled back. The vendor glanced up the street at the not too distant apple cart and had the temerity to utter a single curse and shake a fist when he thought Renard far enough away not to hear. Of course, Renard felt he was actually being quite generous since nobody else noticed the exchange and the vendor got away with his tongue. You really had to saw to get through a tongue...

The warder and his pet turned off the street between a seashell-shaped sculpture of a building façade and a tower that reached up at least a hundred feet in a swooping spiral. Renard wondered what it would be like to push someone off the high bridge that crossed over the street between that spire and its mate on the opposite side. Taking his time to stop a moment and admire a dove camped on the finger of a proudly puffed-up statue of some long dead Amyrlin, Renard followed along the narrow cross-street to another winding thoroughfare.

Ahead, the warder had parted company with the tower guard and was following a second black tabard who a shouldered a lengthy pike. The original guard was headed up the street while the new pair went down.

"Heh," Renard chuckled, shaking his head, "What game are you playing today, Kerene?" They seemed frequently to center their little ploys about this street crossing, though they did as much at others too. Hard to know whether this was real or a trick, yet. He debated following the warder just for the off chance of being discovered and having to carve his way to freedom, but the warder had been a decoy before. With a suffering sigh, he set out up the slope of the winding street after the guy who would be too easy to kill.

Bundled emotions nestled in the back of Renard's mind stirred uneasily, no doubt aroused by his heightened lust. He snorted angrily, "Not like I'm giving myself away," and earned himself odd looks from two muscular bearers hustling along with a sedan chair, "not much anyway."

The dark tabard followed along the thoroughfare generally back toward the Tower for a time, availing Renard an opportunity to ogle a seamstress modeling her own wares and pinch his nose at a stable in the process of being mucked out. "Could not pay me for that job," he muttered. The guardsman seemed to be taking his leisure, much to Renard's annoyance. The pointy inch at the end of a sword would work motivational wonders on that fellow if directed sharply into his backside. Renard closed distance on the bloody idiot twice debating all manner of incitement before the guardsman took a turn into another close passage between building fronts.

White-washed Tar Valon tipped into a few shadows if one knew where to look for them, in those rare nooks where Aes Sedai brilliance, or meddling, failed to quite pierce. Of course, the darkest shadow near a lighthouse is right at the base. Renard followed the fellow in. Ornately cut spires and corniced towers reaching upward hundreds of feet packed too closely together blotted out even the bluest sky. Three thousand year old culverts gasped the muddy scents of refuse poured where no one might think to look. Animal sounds sometimes echoed in the gloom, more often cats than dogs given Aes Sedai penchants, and often sounds of people, muttering and murmuring, barking laughter or coughing.

The black tabard splashed through a puddle up ahead.

Renard felt an excited itch along his spine. Why didn't the fellow ever seem to look back? Nobody was quite this daft. When following a stupid puppy, it sometimes made sense to watch out for the bitch calling it back.

On a lark, Renard took a left and put a curve of building between himself and the runt. Where to watch from in this maze? The one major problem with being few against many; they get more eyes! He jaunted along beneath a raised path that lifted into a spiral around a gold capped pinnacle high overhead and cut into a new alley parallel the guardsman's path. Renard felt some assurance that a woolheaded puppy would not suddenly get creative if he hurried. Flicking back his cloak to free his arms, he hit the wall at a run and vaulted himself to catch the lip of a plank covered window. Whistling an offhand tune as he climbed, he did a chin pull-up with strong hands and flipped his leg onto a raised bridge that cut from a low building to a high tower nearby. Quickly afoot, he trotted along the stone walk before hopping off onto a tiled roof that would follow the guard's previous path. He caught a stripe of sun between buildings as he moved in a crouch. By leaning out just a bit, he could see down into the alley below. The guard had passed further ahead than he would have hoped and was out of sight, so he needed to hurry. He had to squelch the urge to whistle "hunting hounds;" stalking predators weren't supposed to announce their presence.

"What are you…?" a woman leaning out a window just across the alley gawked at Renard as he went past, feet clattering on the tiled roof.

Renard waved and gave a grin, "Top of the morning to you, my lady! Care for a quick throw?" The woman sputtered at him at him in disbelief, but he was already too far away to hear her response except to be reminded of a bristling cat.

Ahead, the roof met a corner, marking a crossing alley between this building and another that stood several stories higher. Renard slowed himself enough not to skid out into space and leaned over for a look. He would have to climb quickly if the guardsman still maintained his lead. Instead of simply jumping across to the facing building, he drew to a screeching stop.

In the intersection below, the guardsman he had been following stood facing the Shienaran warder and guardsman he had decided not to track. The three men were conversing in clipped tones too low for him to catch from two stories above, though the warder gestured several times back in the direction Renard's prey had come from.

"Hoo hoo," Renard gaped involuntarily before clapping a hand over his mouth. Had they spotted him following somewhere further back? Kerene was a clever minx, she was. He thought about dropping a piece of roofing tile on the warder just to see what would happen, but decided it went against his current prohibition. The emotions curled in the back of his mind roused dully in response. Too bad she was in Tar Valon herself; with some distance he thought he could get away with something. "Right, right right," Renard muttered bitterly to himself.

When Nordel stepped out of one of the other alleys meeting at the intersection below, Renard bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Nordel mopped his shiny bald head and gestured to the other warder, pointing off down yet another alley at a right angle to the one Renard had followed.

Hand to sword, Renard very nearly took a flying leap off the roof. The Compulsion through those emotions in the back of his mind suddenly surged to an overwhelming peak that kept his feet planted on the brink, his legs coiled and muscles straining, but not quite allowed to release. If only she were further away. If only! He growled in the depths of his throat, struggling for release. The muscles in his shoulder refused to let him unsheathe his steel.

With several long, jittering breaths, he managed to take himself in hand. No killing today. No killing yet. Calm skittered away. This one fight! He wanted this one fight with every fiber and had to fight down another surge holding him from moving. Standing tall at the edge of the tile roof, hand at sword, he twitched and rocked and fought.

"Fine," he grumbled, resigning himself to holding back the urge to send himself hurtling out into a spectacular two story plummet. "I get it. No killing today. Bloody witch," he stepped back from the edge and let his hand fall from his sword. If only somebody would give him a reason to draw steel. If he had just continued to follow the stupid guardsman instead of being clever and acting to prolong the hunt! He cursed himself for not having a little more foresight. She would never stop him if Nordel had drawn steel first, but he could never have known the man was waiting somewhere just ahead. It would be another day, now.

The four men in the intersection below finished conversing and headed off in four different directions. Whether it had been a trap that just failed, or a safeguard that had functioned perfectly, Renard could not be completely certain.

With a sigh, he chose to follow one of the two puppies. Maybe he would still get lucky today and find what his mistress wanted him to. He wanted to stop with these bloody boring games of skulking about in the shadows.


End file.
